Back at the river of red Clothes upon the banks That bird always over my head If only you'd gone home I let the swarm swallow me whole Murmurate across the wide open sky And spread me hair by hair If only I wasn't waiting for your voice And if only you'd gone home And back from that river of red I don't want to be spore in your throat To the other To the other To the other To the other To the other To the other I don't want to put it in your head I don't want to put it in your head I don't want to put it in your head (That bird always over our heads) I don't want to put it in your head (If only you'd gone home) I don't want to put it in your head (Your youth pouring out of your mouth) I don't want to put it in your head (Am I the last of your old life?) I don't want to put it in your head