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Crow

de Merce Lemon

A murderous flock, beating the wind
They don't need any friends
They're up to their necks in them

Say I was a lonely gust of wind
Could I redirect them?

I'd make a city of this ghost town
Even let the crows come
Rest their necks and nest their young
Even let the crows come
Rest their necks and nest their young

Troubles are gone on the horizon
So I stick a finger in
Just to test the sweetness

Say you gave all of your troubles
To someone deserving?

They'd make a city of this ghost town
Even let the crows come
Rest their necks and nest their young
Even let the crows come
Rest their necks and nest their young

Rest their necks and nest their young

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