Silver Ladle - Eileen Rose

Oh can you hear me?

Am I moving in my own way?

Faith is a cradle

Then the wind blows

And the bough breaks

I’m hard at work breeding devils

A martyr, oh, do that real good

I harbor jealous angels

Bound in glamor to my wrist

Time is a cruel thing

It’s a cold rain on a slow day

Fate like a flower

'Til the wheel turns and the veil fades

The forest grows violet rivers

The dead fall throws back our laughter

Tomorrow taps my shoulder

Add a memory to my list

Oh, Mother help me

You were singing

I was dreaming

Hope plays a banjo

Is a bell shape

Does you real good

I found her own reckless ocean

I found her own golden shadow

I found her silver ladle

Holding water to my lips

Golden water to my lips