Plenty of paper

something's growing under that wing
i think a face is dawning
oh no, the books are growing
faces and you're lost quite classically
with your nose in a book
and it seems so fitting
and perhaps this is the end
we've sought after for so long
and perhaps now it's done

'cause we found all your dire dreams
of men and machines
and turned them all around
our identical hands composing odd romance

i cut the moon in half
and stuck a piece to my hair
it made the back of my head
glow golden-yellow
and then i took
ten stars on sticks and placed them in my small metal bucket
i gave the other half of the moon to you
so you wouldn't forget me
while i'm gone

'cause we found all your dire dreams
of men and machines
and turned them all around
to enjoy them and benefit ourselves
our paperback books, our charming looks
our identical hands composing odd romance

and oh, my love, we could live on the sun
and wouldn't we be attractive
riding in our shining motorcars
with eyeglasses full of stars
with plenty of paper for scenery paintings

'cause we found all your dire dreams
of men and machines
and turned them all around
to enjoy them and benefit ourselves,
our paperback books, our charming looks
our identical hands composing odd romance