Apple

I could live by the river with both of my feet in the blues
Re-organize nature while I compartmentalize the sky, too
I could do what I do
And the rest of the world would have to pretend like they knew
With my roots in the water
Like some cigarette cellophane tooth
The heat in my head that would boil in your bed
And pull me into you
I could fill up the room with these things I been thinking about you
It's true.