Mother Mirth

Singing at blossom with flower chains The towers erected to higher stakes Tiny drops and greater lakes All the way through eternal Pennsylvania It's a trip It's a wall It's a Rubik's cube It's a fall, it's a body It's a place On the morning of the aftermath Our goal was to have everything On the morning of the aftermath Our goal was to keep everything On the morning of the aftermath Our goal was to have everything On the morning of the aftermath Our goal was to keep everything