Peach, Plum, Pear - Joanna Newsom

We speak in the store

I’m a sensitive bore

You seem markedly more

And I’m oozing surprise

But it’s late in the day

And you’re well on your way

What was golden went gray

And I’m suddenly shy

And the gathering floozies

Afford to be choosy

And all sneezing darkly

In the dimming divide

And I have read the right books

To interpret your looks

You were knocking me down

With the palm of your eye

This was unlike the story

It was written to be

I was riding its back

When it used to ride me

And we were galloping manic

To the mouth of the source

We were swallowing panic

In the face of its force

And I am blue

I am blue and unwell

Made me bolt like a horse

Now it’s done

Watch it go

You’ve changed some

Water runs from the snow

Am I so dear?

Do I run rare?

And you’ve changed some

Peach, plum, pear…

Peach, plum…