I remember coming out of that tunnel mouth
Singing high and in the water
Spring and sing before us
The palms hung like reconsidered suicides
From the red ponds of mountain sides
Preserved as a lion was preserved in stars
This was a long time ago
The echos were turning slow
The echos were turning slow
It doesn’t matter, It doesn’t matter
The echos were turning slow
It doesn’t mater
It doesn’t mater
The echos were turning slow
It doesn’t mater
It doesn’t mater
It drives before my lips close
It doesn’t mater
It doesn’t mater
My gift to you was a lake of tears
What a day for 8 long years
My gift to you was a lake of tears
A lake of
The echos were turning slow
It doesn’t mater
It doesn’t mater
The echos were turning slow
It doesn’t mater
It doesn’t mater