Olive Hearts - Bowerbirds

With my toes dangling into the sea

Into a fog, into a lonely drink

Don’t lift me up

I’m a wreck, I know

Still, I’ve got miles to walk from the cape along the coast

And we’ll play helicopter in the sand

And bite our thumbs at the acquaintances

And make it known we’re on par for the evening

And take the butcher’s knife through my words again

Then in walk the mannered men

With their smokescreen yes

And the sequined girls

With their skirts hemmed high

And you will know from this

That it’s all to start

Our glasses clink

And our plastic swords stab our olive hearts

All night like a friendly ghost

We haunt the ins and outs of this house of our gracious host

And give thanks, but not much helps

And so here is where we give the toast:

Cheers to the wives of the drunks

Cheers to the husbands that tag along for good luck

Cheers to the miles it took to get here

Cheers to the the nerve it takes to forget who we are

Then in walk the mannered men

With their smokescreen yes

And the sequined girls

With their skirts hemmed high

And you will know from this

That it’s all to start

Our glasses clink

And our plastic swords stab our olive hearts