Smooth and altogether white,   Same on the inside. It was my   birthday, I felt its weight like   a stone.      I listened for the sound of it,   smelled for the smell of it. And it was   my birthday.      Down below the garden's bed, weak   deep and dirty lead, sinking to the   surface making a fine, fine mess.      If I don't clean it up, I better get   used to it, sinking to the surface.      Sometimes I forget you took your    chances with another, there is coal   in the ivory.      Depends on how you see it, that   ain't how I see it, sneaking through   the fence of my long eyelashes.      You can say that it's the first time,   but it ain't the first time, sneaking   through the fence.      Chorus      Can you see us through the   mountain, heart of mine?      Chorus