The Circulatory System – Diary Of Wood lyrics

people made of paper
come and go
but shadows grow
green behind
in a diary of wood
we found the things
that make us grow these worlds
an umbrella made of stone
and the focus that will turn to sand
you get the general idea
to call in all the troops
that are close at hand
pretend you're a soup of sky
past earth tonight
let's send them photographs
from way outside
way inside