bop bop ba da da bop bop ba da da da bop bop ba dap bop bop bop ba da da bop bop ba da da bop bop ba da da da da in the morning it s all white and grey it s all wrapped in cotton under rays through the window frame the branch you left from trembling always travel with no cash or case when desire strikes you pull up the stakes and in your wake conversations sputtering everything is equal tell me something i don t know a bower better left uncrated nothing left to show at the doorway and it s in my head when the things i crave are the things i dread tbc