While I started in a lush, 'verb-laden direction: all was scrapped, and this stripped, vaguely literal take on 'mystery' is what came forth.
lyrics
'Come the truth again
'Come the truth again
Pressed flowers falling out' old books of mine
Waste water
Another crowded room
Another crowded room
Lips stay shut, they foster such a guise
Keep your truth in pockets with buttons no thumb can twist asunder
Foster the mystery
It's an Otis Spahn
It's an Otis Spahn
When a Honus Wagner wouldn't mean that much to me
Just tobacco cards
But I won't wind up low and outside: a trade on the rail out
Cut away
Play your mystery
It's alright
It's alright
The way she moves even better than the fly
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