About toys and souls (and boys in holes)

Lock them up inside the chamber to the stoves
So they can`t be heard
I build a wall
It`s pretty loud It`s pretty clean

And now we`re interdependent
I look into you and you can see me cry
I can tell of these drowned stones in his bed
Saturday saw drowned stones in this bed

And so I`m locked up in a thought
Some care some choose some along
They play and don`t play in my chest
And burn and burn

Now come to my sea of silver
Cause only there you can see me
Seeking a weeping willow
Let`s see whether they know how to understand

© Text: Ellen Klinghammer
[von der CD "Holly's Songs"]