I'm cleaning my housencause I want you think I'm clean.nYou're the only one left herenwho could think that of me.nYou float through the door,nthrough the haze,npast my sleeping body.nnYou'll talk about the moonlight,nAmerican winter,nand not of the day.nnI'm dusting my booksncause I want you to think I'm read.n(I'm read, I'm read.)nThat I'm more than a child,nthat I think further than my bed.nI'll fetch you a flowernfrom the loveliest garden of mome raths.nnBut I saw you from my bed,nonly in my head,nand under the sea.nn(Ah-wee-mah, ah-wee-moh-waynAh-wee-mah, ah-wee-moh-waynAh-wee-mah, ah-wee-moh-waynAh-wee-mah, ah-wee-moh-waynAh-wee-mah, ah-wee-moh-waynAh-wee-mah, ah-wee-moh-waynAh-wee-mah, ah-wee-moh-waynAh-wee-mah, ah-wee-moh-way)nnWe'll talk about the moonlight,nAmerican winter,nAmerican winter,nand not of the day.