Laura Stevenson
Renée
Renée, make a promise to me
Let your hair grow to your knees
And I will not be far, you'll not be in harms way, Renée

The stragglers bring mud to your door
And trouble for all those who mourn
But do not answer it, stay inside and leave the lights unlit

And night and day, I watch you hide away, Renée

Oh, the full moon
Can't afford the pull that's coming from the likes of you
And oh, to tell you

I bet it said, "if it wasn't for me, the waves won't come"
High in its bed it goes moving with your moving car
It said, "the hardest part is getting older
The hardest part is getting old"

Renée, you've a way to row
Through a lake of fire and fog of cigarette smoke
The dirt-eating moon, don't hurt her, be good