i saw a modest dream
the kind that can’t speak up
and lost before it’s let out
in the north we hold our tongues

but down here i believe
when you pull your hair back it’s so easy to see
this has not been thought through
there are things that we’ve done that we cannot undo
there are things i can’t hear when we’re telling the truth

at a table out in bethel
when i was thirteen
the criminals were saying
liked how i was silent

the cold was the container
for the sparseness of our speech
the expression in our hands
was all that we’d need

but down here i believe
that i made a big deal with a girl that can’t bleed
now I see red and black
and evening that kills i want to take it back
an evening that kills and i can’t take it back

i’m going home back to new hampshire
i’m so determined
to lay in lakes and see my sisters
i will hit my brother and hold my mother

this probably won’t work out
we might not live forever
while there’s nothing to confess
please pay attention

and i know that it’s brief
there’s not nearly enough in one night to have seen
what you had in your hand
was much more than the gold that i let go to grab
so much more than the gold that i let go to grab