I Show You Myself as a Fruit Tree The Microphones

I show you myself as a fruit tree
And you see the fort that could be made of that lumber
I dangle treats, and you, girl, walk under

I show you myself as a buoy
And you see an anchor
And I sing you my welcome

And you, you ship, are pulled under
You've got courage to knock on any door
Until you come to freeze at mine, it swung wide

Oh you coward, you're afraid
You coward, you're the anchor
You coward, you're the fortress
Oh you coward, you're afraid
Oh you coward, you're afraid
Oh you coward, let me in