Feast your eyes on the floor
Where's the pin you're looking for
It's there where the pattern of the grain
Meets a tea or coffee stain

When the dead visit you
Do they ask what they should do
Or do they take their own advice
Like they used to do in life

I hear the fish in the cold north sea
Dear little fish won't you come to me
In trawler's nets all wet and silvery and fine

I hear the fish in the cold north sea
Dear little fish won't you come to me
In trawler's nets all wet and silvery and fine

Feast your eyes on the floor
Where's that pin you're looking for
It's there where the pattern of the grain
Meets a tea or coffee stain

In the dust of yesterday
For a minute you can stay
And watch the spider work her way back home