1. Pack Your Bags

From the recording Silver Line

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Pack Your Bags

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Pack your bags, leave your skin
Your birthright silk, your pigment so thin

Fold your shirts, cut ties with your tails
Your fairies wish for freedom
From your pretentious little cell
The stories you will learn you won't
Be keeping on a shelf
The shelf is where you left it,
Let the stories tell them selves

You're cleaning out your gutters
But you're saving all the leaves
What's dead, you can't bring back
So rake up your sad dependencies
Your children watch you suffer
While they're jumping in your sins
The piles of fallen curtains
Shaded the weakest of your limbs

Mistakes are for the broken,
But the broken can be fixed
The glue that holds your pieces
Is the hand that feeds your lips
You stutter and you stumble
While you state your guilty plea
Now it's time to leave your prison,
Lock the gate and throw the key