welcome to the island

Devendra Banhart

All my fingers ran off
And I just couldn't follow them
Your eyelash was an island
And your eyes were someone's friend
How could that have been
Well I heard it was a real sweet thing

Now when my smells grew some new smells
And I just couldn't smell them all
I smell my sister in the winter
And my father in the fall
Cross sand and snow
A tired moan