Nothing So Great

Crumpled cotton bed
And aching white lace
Pigeon winged Lucy
With a smile on her face
On her face
Cavernous cut,
And the weeping harpoon
Fearing a man
In the dust of the moon
Nightmare city,
I’ve been walking in circles for days
I stare at my fingernails
And I assume that it’s all a phase
My crumbled cotton bed
Oh my
My crumbled cotton bed
Nothing’s so great, to be afraid of
Nothing’s so great, Nothing’s so great
The scabs of old
Are what we’re made of
Nothing’s so great, Nothing’s so great
I asked you before,
And you told me the same
You said child
Nothing’s so great
To take your name,
Your name