Welcome to the Island - Devendra Banhart

All my fingers ran off

And I just couldn’t follow them

Your eyelash was an island

And your eyes were someone’s friend

How could that have been

Well I heard it was a real sweet thing

Now when my smells grew some new smells

And I just couldn’t smell them all

I smell my sister in the winter

And my father in the fall

Cross sand and snow

A tired moan