| That was the summer that followed the spring
|
| The sad anniversary of a thousand old things
|
| I was letting them go The words of Collette and a strange new perfume
|
| The drenching my senses and filling the room
|
| The heat from my body is the light in our eyes
|
| Word is surrender and then we can fly
|
| We were letting it go We are blinded to the beauty in our own lives
|
| The hours taken are all that we’ll get
|
| For five or six hours in the month of July
|
| The summer I read Collette
|
| The time were align and we learnt how to crawl
|
| The bones were prison and memory of old
|
| A word from the past I feel nothing at all
|
| And now I’m letting it go It’s more than survival the lesson I have learnt
|
| When I found salvation quite a surprise
|
| That was the summer that followed the spring
|
| A new way of feeling a million and one things
|
| We are blinded to the beauty in our own lives
|
| The hours taken are all that we’ll get
|
| For five or six hours in the month of July
|
| The summer I read Collette
|
| I found Paris a hundred years late
|
| Calling it sleeping in (…)
|
| My ear to the stone I can hear her sing (…)
|
| I sold my silver to get myself there
|
| To a room with a candle up three flights of stairs
|
| That was the summer I let it all go Filling my body with my heart and soul
|
| We are blinded to the beauty in our own lives
|
| I was taking all I can get
|
| For five or six hours in the month of July
|
| The summer I read Collette |