Lyrics Farsickness - Blake Mills
I′ve
got
a
farsickness
Bringing
out
the
purple
in
the
trees
In
what
I'd
always
thought
up
As
being
brown,
being
brown,
being
brown
I
am
still
in
the
cupola
Wondering
about
your
cryptic
dream
A
single
piece
of
sushi
made
From
porcelain,
from
porcelain,
from
porcelain
Little
do
I
remember
Of
what
I
saw
the
night
we
first
Slept
inside
of
warm
skin
Remember,
remember,
remember
I′ve
got
a
farsickness
For
the
open
edge
of
anywhere
To
vanish
up
an
endless
stair
On
apple
pies,
and
Julian
I
don't
care
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