ribbons of glass
hang along the mountain pass
no one that young
should feel the way a spring bird does
white sheets bed down
before our rakes touch the ground
we can't rest, we don't lie
in the gaze of hindsight
hang along the mountain pass
no one that young
should feel the way a spring bird does
white sheets bed down
before our rakes touch the ground
we can't rest, we don't lie
in the gaze of hindsight