Joanna Newsom

Sadie, white coat
You carry me home
And bury this bone
And take this pine cone
Bury this bone
To gnaw on it later, gnawing on the telephone
And 'til then we pray and suspend
The notion that these lives do never end
And all day long we talk about mercy
Lead me to water, lord, i sure am thirsty
Down in the ditch where i nearly served you
Up in the clouds where he almost heard you
And all that we built
And all that we breathed
And all that we spilt
Or pulled up like weeds
Is piled up in back
And it burns irrevocably
And we spoke up in turns
'Til the silence crept over me
And bless you
And i deeply do
No longer resolute
Oh when i call to you
But the water
Got so cold
And you do lose
What you don't hold
This is an old song
These are old blues
And this is not my tune
But it's mine to use
And the seabirds
Where the fear once grew
Will flock with a fury