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Tall Tales for Spring
by
Vanessa Carlton
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God rest his head Sunday afternoon, and The wicked in me is surely the wicked in you We pray to a ghost that we'd never met Time turns for a cure from the scientists for Madness, madness of the heart But you knew it, you knew it from the start And Hawking will tell us no tall tales this Spring No minds hold the chaos that started everything Maybe it's fate, and the sadness takes hold Still stars through a window, will they ever know this Madness, madness of the heart But you knew it, you knew it from the start There's a madness, a madness of the heart But you knew it, you knew it from the start Stare a sleepy smile into a sunbeam There's nothing more than a daydream Colored stained-glass cathedral Confines the past that won't let you go God rest your head Sunday afternoon And the wicked in me is surely coming through Now pray to a ghost that I'd never met Still searching for someway out of this mess It's the heart It's the heart And a madness, a madness in the stars
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