Lyrics
|
Is
|
it
|
romantic
|
how
|
all
|
my
|
elegies
|
eulogize
|
me?
|
I'm
|
not
|
cut
|
out
|
for
|
all
|
these
|
cynical
|
clones
|
These
|
hunters
|
with
|
cell
|
phones
|
Take
|
me
|
to
|
the
|
Lakes
|
where
|
all
|
the
|
poets
|
went
|
to
|
|
Lyrics
|
die
|
I
|
don't
|
belong
|
and,
|
my
|
beloved,
|
neither
|
do
|
you
|
Those
|
Windermere
|
peaks
|
look
|
like
|
a
|
perfect
|
place
|
to
|
cry
|
I'm
|
setting
|
off,
|
but
|
not
|
without
|
my
|
muse
|
What
|
should
|
be
|
over
|
burrowed
|
under
|
|
Lyrics
|
my
|
skin
|
In
|
heart-
|
stopping
|
waves
|
of
|
hurt
|
I've
|
come
|
too
|
far
|
to
|
watch
|
some
|
namedropping
|
sleaze
|
Tell
|
me
|
what
|
are
|
my
|
words
|
worth
|
Take
|
me
|
to
|
the
|
Lakes
|
where
|
all
|
the
|
poets
|
|
Lyrics
|
went
|
to
|
die
|
I
|
don't
|
belong
|
and,
|
my
|
beloved,
|
neither
|
do
|
you
|
Those
|
Windermere
|
peaks
|
looks
|
like
|
a
|
perfect
|
place
|
to
|
cry
|
I'm
|
setting
|
off,
|
but
|
not
|
without
|
my
|
muse
|
I
|
want
|
auroras
|
|
Lyrics
|
and
|
sad
|
prose
|
I
|
want
|
to
|
watch
|
wisteria
|
grow
|
right
|
over
|
my
|
bare
|
feet
|
'Cause
|
I
|
haven't
|
moved
|
in
|
years
|
And
|
I
|
want
|
you
|
right
|
here
|
A
|
red
|
rose
|
grew
|
up
|
out
|
of
|
|
Lyrics
|
ice
|
frozen
|
ground
|
With
|
no
|
one
|
around
|
to
|
tweet
|
it
|
While
|
I
|
bathe
|
in
|
cliffside
|
pools
|
With
|
my
|
calamitous
|
love
|
and
|
insurmountable
|
grief
|
Take
|
me
|
to
|
the
|
Lakes
|
where
|
all
|
the
|
poets
|
went
|
|
Lyrics
|
to
|
die
|
I
|
don't
|
belong
|
and,
|
my
|
beloved,
|
neither
|
do
|
you
|
Those
|
Windermere
|
peaks
|
look
|
like
|
a
|
perfect
|
place
|
to
|
cry
|
I'm
|
setting
|
off,
|
but
|
not
|
without
|
my
|
muse
|
No,
|
not
|
without
|
you
|
|