Brackett, WI

An easy swing had it's time shouldered
Slow bending axe
Now it's a photo framed
The swing hasn't had it

And here we are rebuilding roads
Right by roosting towns
It's just like the love
-The one that's never been enough

So I'm counting on your fingers
Cause you've reattached the twitch
And if you (go) want opinion
I will die along the ditches

And every summer is a hot token
To the cold, cold take of lust
And every autumn singes
With the business of sadness

Fred had it wrong, Macy
Honey hadn't burned
Another curve in the counting
Is never served

So I'm counting on your fingers
Cause you've reattached the twitch
And if you (go) want opinion
I will die along the ditches