Turn off my mind, I beg you Its buzzing like the Devils bow Pulling a soft virgin string A terrible shriek from below A pure heart been bound by nickel But not bent beneath the coil If you play her right, shell sing through the night With the whispering wheat in the fields The flies on my walls, theyre silent But the swarm in my head is a hell So Ill try to play you correctly For a toll of your deep slumber bell My fingers are wretched and calloused Soon daybreak will creep up my stair Now Ive not got long to summon the song Of the girl with the flaxen hair
flaxen, correctly, shriek, calloused, wheat