meet me inside the oak at 5 o clock let me hear you for the night talk about your hopes and fears each pint of blood they draw deep in these satanic mills makes you wonder why we go we can draw diagrams on beer mats that through our hands geometries link us inexplicably half drunk i mean it when i declare my love for you bawdy jokes to see me through we can walk in the wild wood darkest hearts deep beneath the twisted roots fears in here are soft and small searching for north sea oil in the grass between your toes monday doesn t come round here it s just a job and it s not who i am it s not who you are that is not our lot so huddle up now life s short enough now to lose too much of it in worrying on the way to run away on the way we break away on the way our constant geometries are printed with love and fear we stumble in joy and with exploding hearts on the way to where we are i m not much skilled with small talk i m not much better lying myself out on the table warts and all i keep my shadows small in the eves but you make me want to talk about my doubts like a canary after six pints of special brew i don t think that it s the drink i just like you honest and kind and true just the type i d like to know on the way to where we are it s just a job and it s not who i am it s not who you are that is not our lot so huddle up now life s short enough now to lose too much of it in worrying on the way to run away on the way we break away on the way our constant geometries are printed with love and fear we stumble in joy and with exploding hearts on the way to where we are 