Witches Hat Testo

Jangle together
The wind is cold, the year is old
The trees whisper together
And bent in the wind they lean

If I was a witches hat
Sitting on her head like a paraffin stove
I'd fly away and be a bat
Across the air I would rove
Stepping like a tightrope walker
Putting one foot after another
Wearing black cherries for rings

If I was a witches hat
Sitting on her head like a telegraph pole
Id fly away and be a bat
Across the air I would roll
Stepping like a tightrope walker
Putting one foot after another
Wearing black cherries for rings