1. |
a home away
04:39
|
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2. |
crimes
03:28
|
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3. |
february
04:27
|
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4. |
forest fires
03:23
|
|||
i gave my eyes to a forest fire
and watched my hands strike the timbre
it gave the sky a tower of grey
and washed the sun from my memory
the embers bleached the glowing floor
their crackling hymns calling for more
how llife began to reel away
burning the paths that i made
the valleys were cleared and their naked wood
asked if my eyes understood
----
and i'll try to erase the ash and plume from this place
because it's too much to say
it's too much to stay
|
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5. |
summer
05:03
|
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6. |
season's reaches
03:29
|
|||
i found a home in a windowless room
and through years i built these hands for you
to square the world and fifth the seas
to wind the air and drink to breeze
i've wandered through swells and gathered sharp teeth
found wrath in silence and shivered in ease
they say you can't share a hear while living in walls
to step from your mirror and live as us
then i'll fight the war with a patch on my lips
and say to the mimes [there's life that you've missed
'cause we're a flame on a candle with wax carved from this
'cause we're a flame on a candle with wax carved from this
|
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7. |
wedding
04:36
|
|||
when we were young you were a page of old stories
with the thoughts of your wait to see what we've become
i want to tell you that i'll try to be the best of you and i
but i think we're in too deep before we start to keep
and now we're past between all our patience and apologies
i wish i'd seen the better days without this mess, without the haze
with all the years we spent apart chasing time and falling short
i know you were hungry for the ways dismayed can be courageous
but i think we're in too deep before we start to keep
and now we're past between all our patience and apologies
|
||||
8. |
|
|||
a way home
fingers dipped in move
pockets deep with remains
and strangers counting days
they're awake
making masquerades
turning the coffee page
fixing sharp-edged states
they're on breaks
patient hands on rails
between expiry dates
claims of not-my-fault
and hands too sweet to hold
they're late
parking in rented space
news feeding unease
single folded seats
commute to queen-sized dreams
finding hands too sweet
|
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