Playthings

Download Song

From "Sleepy Hollow: The Rock Opera"

Brom:
So neatly consuming it all with my eyes
In Katrina's fine living room, I could waste hours
Her memory book open, affixed to each page
Perfumed alliances, gently pressed flowers

Ichabod:
And Katrina's Psalm lesson
Begins promptly at nine
But I walk the grounds early
And imagine they're mine

Ichabod:
On her porch hangs a harness of fine English tan
Indian corn crossed like swords on her gates

Brom:
And strings of dried peaches and claw-footed chairs
Twist in the mirror of stout pewter plates

Ichabod:
And she counts lovers missives
As her father counts gold

Brom:
Like old playthings collected
Both neglected and old

Ichabod:
I come on command
With my hymnal in hand
And a smile that looks so sincere
But the horse at the gate
Means turn back it's too late
They don't have to play fair
You don't have to play hero down here

Brom:
But I can see it all now, with Katrina, my bride
Tying a ring with the strings of her purse
My fat-softened hands raising chalices high
Spilling with good life and toasting the universe

Ichabod:
And she counts lovers missives
As her father counts gold

Brom:
Like old playthings collected
Both neglected and old


(David Fernandes - drums and bass
Ivan Watson - piano and vocals)

Copyright 1997 Zach London

Hard Taco Radio

Discography