There are angels in your your angles.
There's a low moon caught in your tangles.
There's a ticking at the sill
There's a purr of a pidgeon to break the still of day
As long we go drowning,
down we go away
And darling,
We go drowning.
Down we go away.
Away.

There's a tough word, on your crossword.
There's a bed bug nipping a finger.
There's a swallow, there's a calm
Here's a hand to lay on your open palm today.
As long we go drowning,
down we go away.
And darling,
We go drowning.
Down we go away.
Away

- the decemberists