Brett Anderson - The Swans

Huddled like rabbits
By the hole by the fence,
Frozen like statues
To the chair on the lake
Clouds of birds,
Make shadows on the moss,
Fields of kale, all patterned with ice
Whoa outside,
Woah the swans rise, whoa...

Curve of the river
Like the neck of a swan,
And the veil of the sky
All peppered with rain
Fields of crows
Picked clean to the bone,
And a love unchained by the chatter of time
Whoa outside,
Whoa swans rise, whoa...