Sawdust and Diamonds Joanna Newsom

From the top of the flight
Of the wide, white stairs
Through the rest of my life
Do you wait for me there?

There’s a bell in my ears
There’s the wide, white roar
Drop a bell down the stairs
Hear it fall forevermore
Hear it fall forevermore

Drop a bell off of the dock
Blot it out in the sea
Drowning mute as a rock;
And sounding mutiny

There’s a light in the wings, hits the system of strings
From the side, where they swing —
See the wires, the wires, the wires
And the articulation in our elbows and knees
Makes us buckle;
And we couple in endless increase
As the audience admires

And the little white dove
Made with love, made with love;
Made with glue, and a glove, and some pliers
Swings a low sickle arc, from its perch in the dark:
Settle down, settle down, my desire

And the moment I slept, I was swept up in a terrible tremor
Though no longer bereft, how I shook! And I couldn’t remember
And then the furthermost shake drove a murthering stake in
And cleft me right down through my center
And I shouldn’t say so, but I know that it was then, or never

Push me back into a tree
Bind my buttons with salt
Fill my long ears with bees
Praying please please please love
You ought not
No you ought not

And then the system of strings tugs on the tip of my wings
(cut from cardboard and old magazines):
Makes me warble and rise, like a sparrow
And in the place where I stood, there is a circle of wood —
A cord or two — which you chop, and you stack in your barrow
It is terribly good to carry water and chop wood
Streaked with soot, heavy-booted and wild-eyed;
As I crash through the rafters
And the ropes and the pulleys trail after
And the holiest belfry burns sky-high