Hey look, the berries are
A drownin' in the pond.
And you said it used to
Be a clear river where
A friend took a bike for a swim.
Two spires, another on a hill,
Hid behind these trees.
Would you believe another
Sunday shop has opened where
They pay for no return.
Ah yes, the marks are still there,
A little worn perhaps,
But they still meant,
The same as the day you
Cut them, oh pointed fingers.
It was nice to be reminded
That I didn't believe St. Nick
'Cause I recognized the kind hands
Of the stranger giving presents
To belong to a friend.
Leavin', yes, I can't take you, no.
But this time the cross upon my neck
Gives me part of you.
And when we return the spires will be the same, yeah.
But sadly you'll go your way and I'll go mine.
A drownin' in the pond.
And you said it used to
Be a clear river where
A friend took a bike for a swim.
Two spires, another on a hill,
Hid behind these trees.
Would you believe another
Sunday shop has opened where
They pay for no return.
Ah yes, the marks are still there,
A little worn perhaps,
But they still meant,
The same as the day you
Cut them, oh pointed fingers.
It was nice to be reminded
That I didn't believe St. Nick
'Cause I recognized the kind hands
Of the stranger giving presents
To belong to a friend.
Leavin', yes, I can't take you, no.
But this time the cross upon my neck
Gives me part of you.
And when we return the spires will be the same, yeah.
But sadly you'll go your way and I'll go mine.