I led her through the nettle
The dewdrops gathered on her cheeks
And her feet fell softly
Quietly trailing behind
The trees were riddled with holes
Too old to nettle in their sleep
And they dream of zettle
Like rotten kerosene
I won't hide by my window
Too afraid of the nettle
And it makes me feel so hollow
The meadow swallowed by the weed
And that flock of sparrows
Never satisfied
I couldn't grab the nettle
My hand stopped, it faltered at the leaves
'Cause I felt it stinging
I'm always trailing behind
I won't hide by my window
Too afraid of the nettle
I won't hide by my window
Too afraid of the nettle