There's a mountain north of Winnepeg buried under ice.
And as the black clouds roll above, white pines crack like glass.
Walking under those swaying trees, branches bowed with ice,
I wanted one to fall on me, to pin me in the snow.
That silver forest reminded me of you
and how I kissed you and I fell down to the bottom of a well.

Down a dirt road west of El Paso, behind a burning barn,
once I stumbled on a horse's bones bleaching in the sand.
But, when I reached down to touch the skull underneath my hand,
A stream of orange lizards poured out from the bone-white mouth.
That empty mouth reminded me of you
and how I kissed you and I fell down to the bottom of a well.
Handsome?