old tree limbs nhold a crow in the windownhe's resting his wings from tumblingnin the jet streamnand falling starsnthey're all burning _nthen they turn into snownabove the southern seasnthe southern seasnnand your old limbsnwill hold the hand of your widownwhen you're resting your wings from travelingnon a jet planenand falling starsnthey're all shootin' somethingnthen they turn into snownon your TV screennyour TV screen.nnso add it onnto the picture you've drawn upnof all your wishes and wantsnthen cut it all upnadd it on nto the lines that you've drawn upnof all your wishes and wantsnadd it onnadd it onnnyour _ will flynyour everything freezesnand fall through the holy maid above the southern seasnwhen you're riding your rails made out of them tiny cotton balesnyou're gonna spin on down like the snow to the groundnnbi-monthly paychecksnempower human wrecksnto dance to the DJ with the double decksnthe streamers of light above the northern treesnjust can't compare with nights like thesenand the banners that waved in an electric breezenmelt away like snow in the southern seasnthe southern seasnnso add it onnto the picture you've drawn upnof all your wishes and wantsnand cut it all upnadd it onnto the lines that you've drawn upnall your wishes and wantsnadd it onnadd it onnadd it onnadd it onnjust add it on.n