Dandelion Wine Songtext
von Thrice
Dandelion Wine Songtext
I skulk through the skeleton trees
The birds and the sun have both flown
I daresay, a damnable scheme
Is hidden in midwinter′s moan
Afloat in a frozen white flood
Disheveled, I shuffle the floor
The fix for what's freezing my blood
Rests behind the red cellar door
Dandelion wine
Just half a spoonful, and everything′s fine
Summoning days
Of summer in bloom, chasing winter away
I should be raking my roof
The snow drift is dangerously high
But I've found my favorite proof
And the barrel is barely half dry
Dandelion wine
Just half a spoonful, and everything's fine
Summoning days
Of summer in bloom, but it′s slipping away
Dandelion wine
Just half a spoonful, and everything′s fine
Dandelion wine
Just half a bottle, and everything's fine
Dandelion wine
(The barrel is dry as a bone)
Dandelion wine
(The snow is still falling like ash)
Dandelion wine
(The ceiling is starting to groan)
Dandelion wine
(Then everything ends with a crash)
Crushed like a rat in a trap
Buried in beams of rough pine
It′s cold now, and catacomb black
Dreaming of dandelion wine
The birds and the sun have both flown
I daresay, a damnable scheme
Is hidden in midwinter′s moan
Afloat in a frozen white flood
Disheveled, I shuffle the floor
The fix for what's freezing my blood
Rests behind the red cellar door
Dandelion wine
Just half a spoonful, and everything′s fine
Summoning days
Of summer in bloom, chasing winter away
I should be raking my roof
The snow drift is dangerously high
But I've found my favorite proof
And the barrel is barely half dry
Dandelion wine
Just half a spoonful, and everything's fine
Summoning days
Of summer in bloom, but it′s slipping away
Dandelion wine
Just half a spoonful, and everything′s fine
Dandelion wine
Just half a bottle, and everything's fine
Dandelion wine
(The barrel is dry as a bone)
Dandelion wine
(The snow is still falling like ash)
Dandelion wine
(The ceiling is starting to groan)
Dandelion wine
(Then everything ends with a crash)
Crushed like a rat in a trap
Buried in beams of rough pine
It′s cold now, and catacomb black
Dreaming of dandelion wine
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