| Love, spread out like seeds
|
| Somebody walked away from landscape poverty
|
| I came to find you
|
| I came to see the beauty underway
|
| That bloomed love, energy
|
| And it turns around like you
|
| And it turns around like me
|
| Into something new
|
| But the only thing I see
|
| I see you, I see you
|
| I see you, always struggling
|
| To find some gentle song
|
| Some mode of simple trust
|
| And ways to understand
|
| These reaching orchards
|
| Of broken fame
|
| Grown deep inside of us
|
| By forced and troubled hands
|
| I see you, I see you
|
| I see you, always struggling
|
| I see you, I see you
|
| I see you, always struggling
|
| To find the sun
|
| Reaching down through shadowed brush (?)
|
| Breaking off the bitter branch
|
| Twisted roots like tans (?)
|
| Dreams of all these spotlit kings (?)
|
| Drinking up the light
|
| Like California redwoods
|
| Splitting up the night
|
| And it turns around like you
|
| And it turns around like me
|
| All the talking we could do
|
| Oh if only we could be
|
| A real life version of you
|
| A real life version of you
|
| And a real life version of me
|
| A real life version of me
|
| I see you, I see you
|
| I see you, always struggling
|
| I see you, I see you
|
| I see you, always struggling |