It takes a midnight
to get to a morning.
It takes time to put, ducks in a row.
Too many blankets and too many dogs,
kick off the covers,
uncover your arms.
Hold it to my ear like a phone.

When the spring will believe in this leaving.
And the leaves will spring up and drop off,
you said
"oh my God. I love you, and how. Oh, did I say that, out loud?"
I don't want my ears to burn.
When the rain came, it sounded like breathing.
All banana peels, and I couldn't fall.
Hold the phone
hold the phone
hold the phone to the ground.

It's the contract of canyons and mountains.
White mountains that leave you alone.
Leave you undone,
with sleep in your eyes,
too quietly rise,
like a crane, flying.
From here on out, I'm on my own.

I'm a moisture stain, on the ceiling.
I'm a lattice, clinging to dust.
I'm settling onto your face
And I know for a while, you'll brush me away
and I'll become water and rust.
When the woodsmoke finally found us
did we really smell it at all?
Hold the phone
hold the phone
hold the phone
to the call.

Running easy, in a barely-there harness.
Hold it close and then let it all fall.
Hold the phone
hold the phone
hold the phone,
to the call.


Lyrics submitted by voldermania

Ducks In a Row song meanings
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1 Comment

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  • +1
    General Commentthese are really wrong. so i'll post the correct lyrics:

    ______

    It takes a midnight
    to get to a morning.
    It takes time to put ducks in a row.
    Too many blankets and too many dogs.
    Kick off the covers, uncover your arm.
    Hold it to my ear like a phone.

    When the spring will believe in this leaving,
    And the leaves will spring up and blah blah...
    You said, "Oh my God. I love you, and how.
    Oh, did I say that out loud?
    I don't want my ears to burn."
    When the rain came, it sounded like breathing.
    All banana peels, and I couldn't fall.
    Hold the phone,
    hold the phone,
    hold the phone til the call.

    It's the contract of canyons and mountains.
    White mountains that leave you alone.
    Leave you undone, with soap in your eye,
    to quietly rise like a crane fly.
    From here on out, I'm on my own.

    I'm a moisture stain on the ceiling.
    I'm a lattice clinging to dust.
    I'm settling onto your face
    And I know full well, you'll brush me away
    and I'll become water and rust.
    When the woodsmoke finally found us
    did we really smell it at all?
    Hold the phone,
    hold the phone,
    hold the phone til the call.

    Running easy in barely-there harness.
    Hold it close and then let it all fall.
    Hold the phone,
    hold the phone,
    hold the phone til the call.
    morganenoson October 20, 2010   Link

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