Panda panda climb your tree there's a life you live in spite of me and for all the fruit that bore your seed there's a wet worm waiting by your feet by your feet, by your feet there's another apple you don't need
and oh, I cursed the weight of me the heavy purse drug by your feet and the dead-straight line that pulled you in got tangled in our spiral spin in our spin, in our spin the tangle that I left you in
and oh, the love I thought we had a tire-tread that slips when wet and I convinced myself of my belief that behind each branch a fallen leaf fallen leaves, fallen leaves I count the colours at my feet.