Joanna Newsom

That means no
where I come from.
I am cold, out waiting for the day to come.
I chew my lips, and I scratch my nose
feels so good to be a rose.
Oh don't, don't you life me up
like I'm that shy, no no no no no, just five it up -
There are bats all dissolving in a row
into the wishy-washy dark that can't let go.
I cannot let go,
so I thank the lord,
and I thank his sword!
'tho it be mincing up the morning, slightly bored.
O, morning without warning like a hole,
and I watch you go.