Strange as it may be,
seeing you between the maple leaves,
that ran along our street
breathing life into the autumns cold and bleak.
Flooded thoughts of you,
April morning, looking through the window,
The world outside
second to the landscape that's sleeping in these arms.
Now we don't speak much anymore,
our lips they are sealed.
With miles and miles
between them now.
Closer than you seem,
tracing fingers, dreams and memories,
still carved into a tree
that you pass to meet someone along
the quiet city street.
Now we don't speak much anymore,
our lips they are sealed.
With miles and miles
between them now.
credits
from Autumns - a collection of relics,
released November 1, 2010
Bradley Laina: Vocals, Guitar
Recorded on a Boss BR-8 graciously given to me by my great old friend Eric Singer.
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