The Awkward Wind Wheel Songtext / Lyric

The wooden lookout seven stories high

The steeple at the top it won't stop singing

Singing singing singing

It's got a rigid rule number one

It's to keep the bodies living

The last crooked sign to bend to the way trees are growing






The usual size of a growth that's been trying

For several hundred thousand seconds

Allows you to drop from the eaves to the leaves in only several hundred thousand seconds

You almost can see the fearless machine milling blindly

Beneath the calamity looming when the sun goes down

We hope the clouds stop bouncing each other off the mountains

We hope the wooden lookout has a gutter it can use

Ear to the ground alone where the edge of the day was

The valley clicking to the tape already rolling

Makes me want to turn the violin down



This wind wheel won't stop spinning

This damned wind wheel won't stop spinning around