The Commodores Follow

there's a life you live in spite of me
and for all the fruit that bore your seed
there's a wet worm waiting by your feet
by your feet, by your feet
there's another apple you don't need

and oh, I cursed the weight of me
the heavy purse drug by your feet
and the dead-straight line that pulled you in
got tangled in our spiral spin
in our spin, in our spin
the tangle that I left you in

and oh, the love I thought we had
a tire-tread that slips when wet
and I convinced myself of my belief
that behind each branch a fallen leaf
fallen leaves, fallen leaves
I count the colours at my feet.

there's a life you live in spite of me
and for all the fruit that bore your seed