O look at Mary always reminding me
Of waves in stereo, float to both back seats
We're always crawling back to the same seed
But we stopped on the corner to buy some plants to say thanks
Another person is gonna extract you
The approximation isn't exactly true
Just call him Mary with ukulele strings
Fertilizing who's buried under the beetles' wings
All the lines we have memorized in our heads
Are just ropes we have thrown to the dead
I can show you the ropes
You could stay, we could say all the poems