Agnes Obel smoke mirrors live in copenhagen

Oh my one I’m so happy that you’ve gone so far
But I know the good, the great
is working you like a charm.
Oh my one, rushing away
with a bag full of bones
I know the place you left
still wont leave you alone.
The crow, the cat, the bird and the bee
I’m sure they would agree
That my one is falling for tricks,
smoke and mirrors playing your wit.
A hue and cry waiting to blow
under your skin
wherever you go
Still I wish that I knew
the taste of something that good.