| Lid upon these morning fields of clover in the sun
|
| If we move this will become undone
|
| I can see your flower tasting breath against my skin
|
| But I forgot your face again
|
| I lost everything in you
|
| And I can feel your fingers slipping through
|
| Herons lift and passing by
|
| Chasing little pieces of the sky
|
| We’re closer than we’ve ever been
|
| (I can’t decide which way to go)
|
| I am lost and made of stones
|
| And I forgot your face again
|
| Yeah, I forgot your face again
|
| Let into these shifting fields of clover in the sun
|
| I can move and make this come undone
|
| Yeah, I lost everything in you
|
| And I can feel your fingers slipping through
|
| As herons lift and pass us by
|
| Keeping little pieces of the sky
|
| We’re closer than we’ve ever been
|
| (I can’t decide which way to go)
|
| I am lost and made of stones
|
| And I forgot your face again
|
| Yeah, I forgot your face again
|
| Chasing little pieces of the sky
|
| And keeping little pieces of the sky |