If you were clay then I am silt
I’m built on weak deposits as the ocean fills me
Push and pull the break of the dawn
If only I could hold it in a small clay pot

And solitude may treat you well
Until the buried arbitrary voices tell you
All your faults in small clay pots
I’ve dropped them all around you as picked them up

And hold my hand
And hold my hand
And hold my hand
And hold my hand

It's bad, it's bad, the demons on my back
You knock them off so gently like they’re bowling pins or cobwebs
It's fine it's fine
You whispered instead and held my hands so gently I could lengthen out my long neck

And hold my hand
And hold my hand
And hold my hand
And hold my hand

And I wish that I had known
I wish that I had seen
Wish that I had known how much you’d done for me
And I wish that I had noticed
Wish that I had noticed
I wish that I had known how much you’d done for me
And hold my hand
And hold my hand
You hold my hand
You hold my hand

If you were clay then I am silt
I’m built on weak deposits as the ocean fills me
Push and pull the break of the dawn
If only I could hold it in a small clay pot