don't wanna get
my ear blabbed
you can't stand
my jokes

your mother died
gaggin on fresh air
my mother died
wishin she'd had a smoke

everyone that we know
remains here
hopin'
they'll live
to be a hundred years
or maybe longer
thinkin' life has got
something to offer
that you can't get
at the age you're at

life has got
but two things to offer
it may really
be just one

the first is
true love
flying at your windows
moving as a moth
at night

the other loving
that you're here

the less you ask
the more the moths will flutter at
your candle in the dark

my ear get blabbed