I'll be tin smithing you be tin smithing me
Where I am thinking of hands
Nothing on us but sea


When I hit the hay or the hearth or the mat
No one's there to answer me back

No one ties my plait but me

Now I look forward to love

Riding the train down our track
Make stops on the way back
Call and I will call you back

Call and I will I mean that

Frank showed us the rose

And the colours they chose
To transcend the sunlight
And bend the moonlight


Fly tying looks fun whether veiling or masking
Dim, bashful or basking

Just tie the tag for your team

When I hit the hay or the hearth or the mat

No one's there to answer me back
No one lies back flat with me


When stars they flew down to rust
Making sand, making dust
Sculpting sister from sand

Making us with their hands
Made to love understand
Making us with their hands

Made to love understand