Douglas Firs

6:18, room 15, the great northern hotel

They appear in twin peaks

As the breeze I slept reasonably well

Douglas fir in the air, a tobacco smell

I awoke to the sound of my cinnamon bell

The morning birds and the Douglas fir

The air is soft but not real

You see the morning, but you don't see her

Don't drive with butterflies on the wheel

A hollow hand in your unmade bed

The air is soft but not real

The brass band in your hollow head

Don't drive with butterflies on the wheel

Make my bed, cut the sleeves off my bloodstained shirt

Drive my car pretty slow, slid the wheels in the dirt

See a new silhouette stand in front of me

Was it you on the trigger back in '73?

The morning birds and the Douglas fir

The air is soft but not real

You see the morning, but you don't see her

Don't drive with butterflies on the wheel

A hollow hand in your unmade bed

The air is soft but not real

The brass band in your hollow head

Don't drive with butterflies on the wheel

Don't drive, don't drive the butterflies on the wheel

Said don't, don't, don't drive, don't drive the butterflies on the wheel

Said don't, don't drive, don't drive the butterflies on the wheel

Said don't, don't drive, butterflies on the wheel

The morning birds and the Douglas fir

The air is soft but not real

You see the morning, but you don't see her

Don't drive with butterflies on the wheel

A hollow hand in your unmade bed

The air is soft but not real

The brass band in your hollow head

Don't drive with butterflies on the wheel