I was fond of telling youAnything that you would tell me to.I can tell where anything is buried,Notches in a forked branch,Can’t you see?The dowsing is pointing me.Collecting underground,Filling in and filing out,Right into the leaves,Obfuscating holes in ground.Looking up from the trap that you set,Let me out, you cowards, I’m not finished yet.Knowing I could find you anywhere,I took a souvenirAnd I got out of there,Lnowing I could find you anywhereMade it easy to forgetWho I used to be when I saidWhat I meant.I thought that once I mourned it would be goneBut I was wrong,It stretches to the forest I came out of,Weathered any storm in those trees,Comfort from the infinitesimality,That clings to me.Now without you,It all falls apart.Not above dealing damage myself, ICut them down and piled them up to keep me dry.PATREON: http://patreon.com/woe_begoneALIZA SCHULTZ: http://anchor.fm/alizaschultzTRANSCRIPTS: http://WOEBEGONEPOD.comTWITTER: @WOEBEGONEPODREDDIT: /r/DOGCATCHER and /r/WOEBEGONEMUSIC: http://woebegonepod.bandcamp.comDISCORD: https://discord.gg/pn9kjTBYPD Our GDPR privacy policy was updated on August 8, 2022. Visit acast.com/privacy for more information.