Holes

[D]time[Bm], all the long red line[F#m]s            [G]
that take control[D]                [Bm]
of all the smokelike stre[F#m]ams            [G]
that flow into your drea[D]ms         [Bm]
that big blue open s[F#m]ea             [G]
that can't be crosse[D]d          [Bm]
that can't be climbe[F#m]d              [G]
just born between[D]           [Bm]
oh the two white line[F#m]s              [G]
distant gods and faded signs[D]           [Bm]
of all those blinking ligh[F#m]ts             [G]
you had to pick the one tonig[D]ht         [Bm]

holes, dug by little moles
angry jealous spies
got telephones for eyes
come to you as friends
all those endless ends
that can't be tied
oh they make me laugh
and always make me cry
'til they drop like flies
and sink like polished stones
of all the stones I throw
how does that old song go
how does that old song go

bands, those funny little plans
that never work quite right