Bright Eyes
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The Movement Of A Hand

Bright Eyes


You follow the footsteps
echoes leading down a hall
To a room, there's music playing
Tiny bells with moving parts
Here the shadows make things ugly
an effect quite undesirable
And The gold and yellow daylight
Grows like ivy across the wall
And it bounces off of the painted porcelain
A tiny dancing doll
Her body spins as she pirouettes
Again the world suddenly seems small
On an off-white, subtle morning
You stretch your legs in the front seat
The road has made a vacuum
Where our voices used to be
And you lay your head onto my shoulder
Pour like water over me
So if I just exist for the next ten minutes of this drive that would be fine
And all the trees that line this curb would be rejoicing and alive
Soon all the joy that pours from everything makes fountains of your eyes
Because you finally understand the movement of a hand waving good-bye

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