Once a stolen story Twice an apple almost. Three in grinding glory Four a giving ghost.
I’m mostly unstuck from the woods
Once an apron upright Twice it’s on the floor Three I never looked up Four you shut the door
I’m won’t be unstuck for good
Take me to corner Lay me by the street A hungry running headlight Is flashing on repeat
Four it’s cold and narrow Three was always ending Twice I felt fault line Once I was pretending
Asking all the anxious To lay itself down And leave me to my patience I make a silent sound