A flock of knives cut the sky
And buried in my black eyes
And the clouds they bled in my head
And autumn rain soaked the dry beds

[Chorus]
And the hurricane of her eyes
Wailed away the knives
The knives of summertime, summertime
The knives of summertime, summertime
The knives of summertime

and I did swallow stained glass tears
Absorbed by the sun for many light years
And the fire flies in her hair
My red concertinas coming down the stairs

[Chorus]

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): MARK LINKOUS