First Come the Wish - Field Music

First comes the wish

And then comes the night

Pockets open to pick

And I’m left with words

Stretched out to dry

I believe to hard

That we’re nearly right

First comes the itch

And then comes the knife

We can swallow a change

If it feels right

And there are only words

To retrace the line

A newspaper clipped

'Til it’s all white

And the only time

For such a curious thing

To come apart like this

Is the cruellest time