My CDs have beautiful scratches
because I've played them so beautifully much
my legs have beautiful scratches
because I've been running through the underbrush
my glasses have beautiful scratches
because I've seen so many beautiful things;
the maraschino cherries are blooming
on the blueberry riverside.
We've been picking mulberries so much,
chasing the dawn to the dusk,
chasing the fawns through the underbrush
playing with the deer by the riverside,
wiping the tears from off your eyes.
It's okay if we get scratched up
it doesn't matter what happens to us
because we're fighting for what we love
the willow gets chopped up for its wood
woodchips make a bed for the ducklings to lie
I want to leave something for others when I die.
The willow leaves a canopy to keep out the rain
the pine needles are thimbles to hide in the hay
and the fur trees
we're perfect matches
we leave these
on the willow
from the willow.
We might bleed to death,
but I'll bleed to death with you
and I'll die proving
that true love is really true.
And you know I'd never really die,
scratches are only on the outside
and you'd never scratch my heart.
I love you, I'll rescue you, I'll protect you
from all these thorns
and I'll be so glad to wear
all these beautiful scratches.
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