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Devendra Banhart
Devendra Banhart


Background information
Born May 30, 1981
Born place Houston, Texas, United States
Genre(s) Lo-Fi
Folk
Freak Folk
Years active 2002—present
Label(s) XL Recordings
hinah
Young God Records
Associated acts Beck
Vetiver
Megapuss
CocoRosie
Antony Hegarty
Little Joy
Joanna Newsom
Noah Georgeson
Website Website



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  D  →  Devendra Banhart  →  Albums  →  Oh Me Oh My...

Devendra Banhart Album


Oh Me Oh My... (10/28/2002)
10/28/2002
1.
Tick Eats the Olive (Instrumental)
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. . .

Tick Eats the Olive

[No lyrics]

. . .



When the roots of the tree are as cold as can be
When the wind in the sea are the moth meets the bee
When the rays of the sun lick your skin with its tongue
And the grass with its green And the grass with its green
And the shine with its sheen And the shine with its sheen
And the trains with their tracks And the spines with their backs
And your sway with its slow And the wind with its blow
And your scream with its soul I don't play rock n roll
And the people with their lungs And the people with their paws
If the sky were a stone made of lips, made of bones

. . .


Yes I love the man who took care of me

. . .



Well you certainly are nice people
Yeah you certainly are nice people, nice people
Certainly are nice people
In your white ass suit and lion tattoos
In your white ass suit and lion tattoos
You've seen it all, seen it all
Pale horse licks your skin, begin
Begin, begin, begin, begin, begin
Well you certainly are, you certainly are nice people,
You certainly are nice people, nice people
In your white suit and lion tattoos
In your white suit and lion tattoos
You've seen it all, seen it all
Pale horse licks your skin

. . .



Gonna go out in the woods, gonna find some animals
Gonna put them in my play, all in one day, all in one day
Gonna walk to Izabelle, gonna have her comfort me
Izabelle spelled with a z

. . .



I've never told this story to another living soul
For fear it might awaken and the story would unfold
Candles in a courtyard and a paper colored cat
While demos danced on feathers and cosmos held the hat

Next came their profession and a paper colored purr
An umber armed albino and the crowd began to stir
I slid behind a linden to swallow what I'd seen
I slid behind a linden and to swallow what I'd seen
Threads of grass and thumbles, needles made of hair
Leaves a dance that stumbles, limbs laughed in the air
Threads of grass and thumbles, needles made of hair
Leaves a dance that stumbles, limbs laughed in the air

And on the day you fall, who's name would you call
The only thing you taught me is the only thing you know,
How to start a fir once the umbers cease to glow
The only thing you taught me is the only thing you know,

. . .



My friend has my favorite teeth, they bend backwards when she breathes
And it whistles
Sweetness is all sweetness was
Bees are black eyed birds that buzz
My love has my favorite ears, they lean forward when she hears
Well evil is all evil was
Bees are blue eyed knees that buzz

And I said, oh, Michigan, Michigan state
How I'd love to live in you
I've never been to Michigan state, still I want to live in you

Oh you can't speak without your tongue
Don't try to drown without your lungs
Well my snail has my favorite slow, shell helps the snail still the skin lays
low
And if my snail has my favorite slow, then my cold has my favorite snow
But if my snail's cold and comes to a halt, then my sea has my favorite salt
The salt keeps the sea from feeling sweet, and my toes have my favorite feet
And if I sweat salt and the Earth sweats heat
Oh Michigan, Michigan state
How I'd loved to live in you
I've never been to Michigan state, still I'd love to live in you
Michigan st-st-st-st-ate

. . .



I'm lost in the dark, lend me your teeth
Lost in the dark, lend me your teeth

. . .



Hi Mrs. Cain, thanks for the phone call
Isn't it, isn't it strange
Oh things do change, oh they don't change at all
Isn't it, isn't it strange
Oh some things go, oh some things do remain
Isn't it, isn't it strange
Isn't it, isn't it strange
Blood in the veins, and love that's all over
You've got blood in your veins, and love felt all over
Isn't it, isn't it strange
Isn't it, isn't it strange
Isn't it, isn't it strange

. . .



Soon is good, sooner is best
Under evil doorsteps
The end of May, of May, of May, of May DALW!
Mid july, the middle of June
Evil elvis, good afternoon
Soon is yours, but soon to be mine
Prize beats puzzle everytime
Well the end of May, the middle of June
They'll be coming home sooooooon

. . .



Tell me something, do you love him, does he love you too
Like I love you
I know nature is beside me, when he's inside you
I feel it too
Here's a picture of my mother, there's no one like she

. . .



There's one way to whistle, whistle while you work
I know I am the plateau
Just one way to whistle, but it's too soon

. . .



He told me himself, he's a gentle soul
I saw for myself, he's a gentle soul
Camilla's a calming name, like windowing
Camilla's a calming name, like windowing
There's nobody else with your babe's little eyes
This is number fourteen out of how many tries
Your voice has a calming strain, all whispering
My voice wants to do the same oh brothering
All alone in your zoo of numbers and clues, of colors and hues

. . .



She's got the happy happy oh
She's got the happy happy oh
They had the falling falling oh
They had the falling falling oh
He had the coming out oh
He had the coming out oh
And I thought loving a man takes strength to me
When no one takes you seriously

. . .



There's a lot of love, but not the kind I need
Y'ever made a soup out of a pumpkin seeds
There's a lot of skin and flesh I never should have seen
There's too many half ways in betweens
There's a lot of stays, I think I wish I done
There's a lot of leaves my true love gave to me
There's a lot of stays, I think I wish I done
There's a lot of leaves my true love gave to me
There's a lot of birds people like to draw
There's a lot of sees I wish I'd never saw
There's a lot of birds that people like to draw There's a lot of sees I wish I'd

. . .



If I were more like city girls, if I were more like city girls
If I were more like fancy girls
And thanks little bee, think of me
Here's four photographs, just for laughs
My Miss Shipwreck sinks, yes she sings
My Miss Pitchfork pinch, yes she pinch
My Miss Sidewalk slips makes a mess, tickle flesh
When the night doesn't want you and the sounds all surround you
And the steps to the temple are the breasts made of puddles
And if I were more like city girls, if I were more like fancy girls

. . .



Legless love and spider love
Webless love and fragrant mud
Caked in birds, cased in words
I buried your hair in a bed of swords
I buried your legs in a knife less snake

. . .



Catastrophy, imments the sea in sound
Spend a day by the beach and swimming around
Marigold, sunrays to unfold and frown
Spit past the cracks and the cataracks in sound

. . .



To lose the love I've had, lose the love I've had
Make it easier on me, easier on me
Said it's cold outside, we should come inside

. . .



Ones the most calming tune the others the giving
Ones the softest calming lagoon
The others he's dancing
Ones the I's the O's and the rings
While the others the movement
Ones the sway it slips and sings
The mantles and the blankets
Its four and four time to sing some more
It eight and eight time to celebrate
Better not be late
Don't ya miss it

. . .



Little monkey swinging by me from your fig tree
Your Jewish canteen
Baby pigeon yellow diamonds, queen of catskills
So long sweet thing
Tiny spider, tender fighter

. . .



Christmas is here, all the leaves are jumping
When will they learn, the spirit is near
All the trees are dancing, ready to burn
The spirit is near, all the roots are singing
What will they learn, they're ready to turn

. . .


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