If our love was milk By now it'd be sour Or it could be honey from the bluish wildflower Favored by the last bluebirds And by the doves from the spring Dripping out of our fingers Dripping over our screens If our love was honey It'll be sticky and slow It'll be kept by the bees And it would be kept from the crows It would harden to crystal color gold Buried deep in the mountains Only you and me knows I've seen it flow for miles and miles The same thing over and over and over For miles and miles But those seeds that they've sowed They need blood and pesticides So the milk and honey Has got to be left to survive, whoo Ooh-ooh-ooh