Caterpillar
Dan Carey, Emilíana Torrini
The hem of her dress spills over what covers the seat
And flutters in the breeze like caterpillars on a leaf
Hair the hue of lions, beaches dried by morning suns
Promise me you will write me a poem of who I am 'fore sadness comes
Oh, it comes in slow slow whispers
When it comes, feels like long long winters
She placed her hand in the sun
And, with her shadow, smoothed me down
Turn your mind down low now
Hold me close 'fore madness comes
Oh, it comes in slow slow whispers
When it comes, feels like long long winters
Let it come in slow slow whispers
Let it come with its long long winters