Spiders are singing in the salty breeze 
Spiders are filling out tax returns 
Spinning out webs of deductions and melodies 
On a private beach in Michigan 

Why can't they wish their kisses good 
Why do they miss when their kisses should 
Fly like winging birds fighting for the keys 
On a private beach in Michigan 

This recent rash of kidsmoke 
All these telescopic poems 
It's good to be alone 

Why can't they say what they want 
Why can't they just say what they mean 
Come clean, listen and talk 
Hello private callers, IDs blocked 

The sun will rise, we'll climb into cars 
The future has a valley and a shortcut around 
Who will wear the crown of drowning award 
Hold a private light on a Michigan shore 

You fool me with a kiss of kidsmoke 
From a microscopic home 
It's good to be alone 

I'll be in my bed 
You can be the stone 
That raises from the dead 
And carries us all home 

There's no blood on my hands 
I just do as I am told