A mouse does the backstroke in a jar of glass beads
And some small conceit slips into the room
Then lavender, lavender seeps from the walls.

This image in color is all the room needs
When the hands remain behind the door and
A mouse does the backstroke in a jar of glass beads.

Dawn's in the window, the mouse on the floor
The bed in the corner gets made on its own
And lavender, lavender seeps from the walls.

Snow might look in for a second or two
But keeps its cold path when it sees that
A mouse does the backstroke in a jar of glass beads.

No other room just the one with a bed
Cannot or will not or willful or candid
And lavender, lavender means nothing at all.

A mouse might get worried its not all about beads
But the room takes control, its easier that way, then
A mouse does the backstroke in a jar of glass beads
And lavender, lavender seeps from the walls.