Cooksonia

I've given the
Better part of my days
To the consideration
Of small things

Gingerly went
Unpicking the seams
Of a long dried-up stream (ya-ho, ya-ho, ya-ho)

Dwelling at length
Inside the mad waltz
Of spores on a gust
Of the mind's hair

And when I dream
I really go
To that ocean of stone (ya-ho, ya-ho, ya-ho)

In the shadowed shallows
Our spirit wells
Move closer
Move closer

On the radio
I hear the blue hills
Move closer
Here and there

When I was young
The better part of my days
Were spent to the nursing of my mum
I found my pleasure
Whenever I could
In tennis and piano (ya-ho, ya-ho, ya-ho)

And though we were half-broke
I managed to go
To study at the university
Of melbourne (ya-ho, ya-ho, ya-ho)

In the shadowed shallows
Our spirit wells
Move closer
Move closer

On the radio
I hear the blue hills
Move closer
Here and there

A week at sea
The better part of my days
Holed up in the cabin
Lost in
Boundless
Study

I'm on my way
To the UK
With ethel mclennan (ya-ho, ya-ho, ya-ho)

Unfortunately
The fungal
Cultures
We brought with us
Have started
To degrade

There are no birds
No bushes or trees
No beasts
Nor people
Only this
Single stem