Hine Rupert Pick Up A Bone Scarecrow Take a beanpole that has felt the seasons change He's known the wind against its face And place it firmly on the softest ground. Throw around the pole a cloak of patterns curious That catch the sun And turn the eye away from what is true. Paint upon its face a smile That never questions why And crown it with a high hat made of straw. And when the evening creeps into your eyes You leave it for the world to see This sad reflection name it vanity. Hear the voices talking Though their lips are barely moving Yet their words are cutting quick To find the softest ground. Twisting in their broken flight To catch the dreams you cast aside To bring them once again before your eyes. Raise the Scarecrow to their lips That stiffen And then turn away To leave you thankful Breathless if alone. And though you are too real to disappear You sink again into your bones And leave the Scarecrow to the World. Take a beanpole that has felt the seasons change He's known the wind against its face And place it firmly on the softest ground. Throw around the pole a cloak of patterns curious That catch the sun And turn the eye away from what is true. In its hands you place your bitter tears Its legs will be your broken dreams Swaying from the gibbert of contempt. And when you seek for gentle words You'll find its shadow reappears To shield you from The tenderness of love. |
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