| Evergreens and a dream of an island town
|
| Draw a line in the sand and we’ll smooth it down
|
| Will your side win? |
| Get to the middle
|
| Count them off one at a time
|
| And we’ll try to guess right
|
| Waking in the white sun, lights out
|
| Wading through the days in, nights out
|
| It’s a slow cinnamon summer
|
| Your spell is pulling me under
|
| Rowing in a wooded hollow
|
| Showing me the moves to follow
|
| It’s a slow cinnamon summer
|
| Your spell is pulling me under
|
| It’s a hand on the ground that’s around for an hour of hope
|
| It disappears as the sea takes it in and swallows it whole
|
| And just as it leaves, just as it’s sinking
|
| The morning will save our souls
|
| From too cold, to keep low
|
| Waking in the white sun, lights out
|
| Wading through the days in, nights out
|
| It’s a slow cinnamon summer
|
| Your spell is pulling me under
|
| Rowing in a wooded hollow
|
| Showing me the moves to follow
|
| It’s a slow cinnamon summer
|
| Your spell is pulling me under
|
| Waking in the white sun, lights out
|
| Wading through the days in, nights out
|
| It’s a slow cinnamon summer
|
| Your spell is pulling me under
|
| Waking in the white sun, lights out
|
| Wading through the days in, nights out
|
| It’s a slow cinnamon summer
|
| Your spell is pulling me under
|
| Rowing in a wooded hollow
|
| Showing me the moves to follow
|
| It’s a slow cinnamon summer
|
| Your spell is pulling me under |