| Down by the lake you saw me
|
| And you knew I was waiting for you
|
| Looking in between those long reeds
|
| Your reflection it fell upon.
|
| How we missed that love.
|
| (Buck 65)
|
| The words written on my hand are hard to say
|
| A game of solitaire with no card to play
|
| Paper airplane so far away
|
| (Jenn Grant)
|
| How we missed that love
|
| (Buck 65)
|
| The words written on my hand are hard to say
|
| A game of solitaire with no card to play
|
| Paper airplane so far away
|
| (Jenn Grant)
|
| Crying for your letters
|
| Looking all through the pictures
|
| They’re surviving the long way,
|
| To get from me to you.
|
| Get to me.
|
| You’re writing me a letter
|
| Looking for my heart to send you-
|
| Oh it all in words
|
| I’m writing my heart out,
|
| My heart out for you.
|
| (Buck 65)
|
| Distant tower,
|
| Hour on resistant hour,
|
| Signals with consistent power.
|
| Eventually the shepherd must slaughter his sheep.
|
| The sky is ripped open and the water is deep
|
| Somewhere else your burning fire,
|
| Your tempting charms
|
| I’m lost in the woods with no voice and empty arms
|
| Admitting I’m stranded.
|
| Committing my plan
|
| And two stories written by hand.
|
| (Jenn Grant)
|
| Play me again your memory.
|
| (Buck 65)
|
| The hands on the clock on the wall are the enemy
|
| I feel them on my throat
|
| Girls are called Emily
|
| Stillness
|
| Is Illness
|
| Your voice is the remedy.
|
| (Jenn Grant)
|
| Polaroid picture gonna find me
|
| (Buck 65)
|
| The illusion is blinding
|
| Aches that remind me
|
| Finally behind me
|
| Yesterday is in the fire
|
| Drawn to these words
|
| Until my hands begin to tire
|
| At war with now
|
| Desperately seeking then
|
| Cursing my body
|
| And torturing a bleeding pen
|
| Memories of your voice
|
| Circling through rooms
|
| Wondering where
|
| And imagining two moons
|
| There is one for each of us
|
| Anguish is my guiding grace
|
| I keep all your lyrics in a secret hiding place
|
| Building a boar made with a sail of paper
|
| Words written down
|
| No sound
|
| And a trail of vapor
|
| (Jenn Grant)
|
| How we missed that love
|
| How we
|
| How we missed that love.
|
| How we |