[Thurston]
lay down your lucky hand, upon her heart
morning becomes a kite, tangled up in stars
laugh in the midday light, and leave - it behind
move out into his sundry eyes, and sing, unwind
hang down your lucky head, a sign to time
morning becomes the sun, for the dandy line
sooner than the midday light, we leave behind
love is out into the sundry light, you sing, unwind
