Where do you bury your past life?
Look to my father's house
Meet the morning of all the rest
I left a drawing there for you when you return
And less erasure

How do you reckon that all
Every shovel pull
Of the white wet avalanche?
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh

When will you place the shapes in patterned ways?
Our backs are butterflies
Their eyes are southern wind
Left a thousand threads all tied from one end
And let's return

How do you reckon that all
Every shovel pull
Of the white wide avalanche
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh

In the darkness when it comes
Will you know its shape?
In the morning when you lot
Will you remember what you said? (In the darkness when it comes)
Look to my father's house (Will you know its shape)
(In the morning when you lot)
Meet the morning of all the rest (Will you remember what you said?)

How do you reckon that all
Every shovel pull
Of the white wet avalanche
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh