Eb Song

I would've told you about this film but we're not speaking anymore Off with their heads now, off on their own I don't mean to get all sad on you I don't mean to take myself out on you I've been stepping on my toes for too long Dandelions on windowsills, their bristles make their way into the yard Cats climbing the standing clocks, I only care about little things from now on I'm buying boxsets, calling myself a collector I'll put myself in debt before I work myself dead I'm writing papers, calling myself an actor I'll put fronts up til I make it Turning down every offer And therein lies the garden, fairly sized and fecund And therein lies the future, but looking at it's useless And I am still holding it all in And I am still holding it all