Eighteen Sets Of Eyes

Duration

3:32

Genres

Folk

Description

Lyrics

Eighteen sets of eyes Are staring back at me I never fit in Ill at-ease in my skin It’s measles-esque Standing there with rats for hair Elastic jeans Cast out on the porch And through the windows and doors They’re gawking at me Dangling down The willows weep Maybe I’ve found A place for me Bookish fuck with backward luck And crooked teeth Look across the street Through a window we see A girl recede Clutching tight, the stuffing Of my only friend Tucked under my chin A tuxedo-clad gent Ely the penguin Dangling round The willow tree Held safe and sound Here underneath Dangling down The vines they mope (unfold) Each a helping hand Or hangman’s rope But still burning bright In the back of his mind That box of letters Somehow left behind Waiting for him Reaching out to find A stranger’s hand Through the sands of time And on to the next life He could open one just to see Maybe this was really meant to be Eighteen sets of eyes Are staring back at me I never fit in Ill at-ease in my skin Who gives a shit? Scamper in and scramble up the stairs On-end hairs as the envelope tears A pair of trembling hands have we