Devendra Banhart | At the Hop
Put me in your suitcase, let me help you pack ‘cause you’re never coming back, no you’re never coming back. Cook me in your breakfast and put me on your plate ‘cause you know I taste great, yeah you know I taste great. At the hop it’s greaseball heaven with candypants and archie too. Put me in your dry dream or put me in your wet if you haven’t yet, no if you haven’t yet. Light me with your candle and watch the flames grow high. No it doesn’t hurt to try, it doesn’t hurt to try. Well I won’t stop all of my pretending that you’ll come home, you’ll be coming home, someday soon. Put me in your blue skies or put me in your gray. There’s gotta be someway, there’s gotta be someway. Put me in your tongue tie, make it hard to say that you ain’t gonna stay, that you ain’t gonna stay. Wrap me in your marrow, stuff me in your bones. Sing a mending moan, a song to bring you home.
