Broken Horse - Freelance Whales

October's got those orange eyes

But somehow I still lost sight

When you lifted the lid off of my pumpkin head

And kissed me goodnight

Should it be a thorn in my side

We never quite broke that horse

She slept in the cul de sac rye

Seven miles from my front porch

Bundle up and come with me now

Down the road to the burnt down barn

We could make a blanket of coats

And breathe our souls into the neighbours front lawn

But oh god that look in your eye

Trouble that does not search words

It sprung from the biblical vine

And are waiting to return to the dirt

The stitches in your winter clothes

Your cello bows

We stole your hair to make them

We're sorry for the iron shoes

We nailed to you

And stuck you in the rain alone

You sprinted away sprinted away

To where I don't know

God's moving in your bloodstream

Where the cross beats aren't so slow

You swept all the red from my cheeks

I didn't hear you come back inside

And light up the gas in the den

And stand there in the thin winter light

But oh god that curve in your spine

A question mark

A doctor sign was framed by the windowsill

And you saw something I did not in the night

You saw something I did not in the night

The stitches in your winter clothes

Your cello bows

We stole your hair to make them

We're sorry for the iron shoes

We nailed to you

And stuck you in the rain alone

You sprinted away sprinted away

To where I don't know

God's moving in your bloodstream

Where the cross beats aren't so slow

It's moving in your bloodstream

Where the cross beats aren't so slow