My Rube Goldberg Machine

Every morning starts the fall, Rube Goldberg machine to call The worry and the wonder into view It's a cunning cam for tilted heads, machines built for the living dead Buried under anything that's true So tell me Mary-Anne of the misty morning dew drops Soaking through your shoes Is there any chance you'd humor me today? Or are you already blue? Oh That's fine, I didn't bet the farm. But I lost it anyway It's all a house of cards that will tumble someday Every Moment drops down as water Adding itself to the world Then the sun beats down and stirs into the sky, the sum of our love And through the falling rain, refracted by the sky A distant memory, a warm and sad goodbye Oh that's fine! I didn't bet the farm on it anyway It's all a house of cards, it will tumble someday