| I am thinking it's a sign
|
| That the freckles in our eyes
|
| Are mirror images
|
| And when we kiss they're perfectly aligned
|
| And I have to speculate
|
| That God Himself did make
|
| Us into corresponding shapes
|
| Like puzzle pieces from the clay
|
| And true it may seem like a stretch
|
| But it's thoughts like this that catch
|
| My troubled head when you're away
|
| And when I am missing you to death
|
| And when you are out there on the road
|
| For several weeks of shows
|
| And when you scan the radio
|
| I hope this song will guide you home
|
| They will see us waving from such great heights
|
| Come down now, they'll say
|
| But everything looks perfect from far away
|
| Come down now but we'll stay
|
| I tried my best to leave
|
| This all on your machine
|
| But the persistent beat
|
| It sounded thin upon the sending
|
| And that frankly will not fly
|
| You'll hear the shrillest highs
|
| And lowest lows with the windows down
|
| And this is guiding you home
|
| They will see us waving from such great heights
|
| Come down now they'll say
|
| But everything looks perfect from far away
|
| Come down now but we'll stay
|
| They will see us waving from such great heights
|
| Come down now they'll say
|
| But everything looks perfect from far away
|
| Come down now but we'll stay
|
| (They will see us waving from such great heights)
|
| (Come down now)
|
| They will see us waving from such great heights
|
| (Come down now) |