[Thurston]

lay down your lucky hand, upon her heart

morning becomes a kite, tangled up in stars

laugh in the midday light, and leave - it behind

move out into his sundry eyes, and sing, unwind



hang down your lucky head, a sign to time

morning becomes the sun, for the dandy line

sooner than the midday light, we leave behind

love is out into the sundry light, you sing, unwind