Phoebe
Music: Lyndon Heart
Lyrics: Salome Strangelove

Phoebe says she misses Thessaly
And its sultry Summer rains
She struggles with our language
And its only word for love
There are olives in her irises
And licorice on her lips
I think I could write songs for her
I think there should be songs for her

Phoebe says she played with centaurs
When she was just a little girl
She learned four-legged dances
Amid the fertile Autumns
From souls of ancient wisdom
Drunken on the plains
She thinks I could write songs for them
She thinks there should be songs for them

There’s no mystery in this city
I am drowning in its truth
I need a land that lies to me
That hides from me and steals from me
And Phoebe says she knows the way

Phoebe says things that keep me thinkin’
When she’s talkin’ in her sleep
She spins tales of muses
Who cry in labyrinths
Waiting in the dark
For a man like me
A man who can write songs for them
A man to write his songs for them

Phoebe says that there are secrets
I’m not supposed to know
She breathes upon my shoulder
Whispering all her words for love
There are olives in her irises
And licorice on her lips
I think I could write songs for her
I think there should be songs for her

There’s no mystery in this city
I am drowning in its truth
I need a land that lies to me
That hides from me and steals from me
And Phoebe says she knows the way
And I will follow
I will follow
I will follow her
Phoebe says she knows the way