There is no beast
Obviously
The floor just creaks
Obviously
The morning with coffee was snowy and sweet
And there was this small, snow-white dog
That was barking at our feet
Honestly
Drove all day to the vacant beach
Gray mist hanging over the sea
Alleys clogged with magazines
And the boardwalk is empty
The house in the valley is open this week
Imagine the sea looking at At the slowly moving sheets
Honestly
If you feel weak, leave it to me
If you need sleep, leave it to me
Need wool socks for your feet, leave it to me
Need a walk on the beach, leave it to me
An ear into which to weep, leave it to me
A shoulder on which to sleep, leave it to me
And leave it to me to not speak
When I pass you on the street
Leave it to me to feel weak
Leave it to me to run from your feet
Leave it to me to not speak
When I pass you on the street
Leave it to me to feel weak
Leave it to me, number thirty-three
Leave it to me