Byrd Joel Red House Painters

My baby sleeps in blue
Warm and naked pale and pretty
I feel the seventh wave
Of the ocean in the motion

I feel a brand new sickness
Coming over me like a storm
Used to feel so good beside her
There next to her my arm around her

She fell like flowers
Petals where carried out on my old wind
Landed down in the centre of this
Lonely white grip of winter

She brought these gifts of love
I carried down in my pocket
I set then on my shelves
And on the night stand by my bed

She sleeps and won't come back again
From pretty dreams that keep her
My baby won't back again
I feel so lost without her

I hear your magic voice on the
Analogue of this machine
I hear the smoothest talk of the
Coolest transparent star field