Song | The Green Years |
Artist | Sad Lovers and Giants |
Album | The Mirror Test |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
I can tell myself I know the answers | |
Try to puzzle out the painful things I’ve yet to learn | |
But i don’t understand the subtle plan | |
And still I wonder | |
As the seeds we’ve sown fall to earth and grow | |
In a barren land | |
Sheltered in our seasoned hardness | |
Shall we shed a stagnant tear to ease our wooden hearts? | |
Well that depends | |
With our precious hands clutching painted sand | |
And our broken wheels in doubt as we turn for home | |
Melting in a dream of gardens | |
I was walking through the trees when someone called my name | |
I long to trespass down that path again | |
And though I’ve no regrets | |
I can still recall when the first leaves fall | |
How I lost my way | |
Parachuting into darkness | |
Doesn’t every wounded hero live to fight again? | |
I’m baling out | |
But the profiteers stole my surplus years | |
Am I somersaulting headlong into the ground? |
I can tell myself I know the answers | |
Try to puzzle out the painful things I' ve yet to learn | |
But i don' t understand the subtle plan | |
And still I wonder | |
As the seeds we' ve sown fall to earth and grow | |
In a barren land | |
Sheltered in our seasoned hardness | |
Shall we shed a stagnant tear to ease our wooden hearts? | |
Well that depends | |
With our precious hands clutching painted sand | |
And our broken wheels in doubt as we turn for home | |
Melting in a dream of gardens | |
I was walking through the trees when someone called my name | |
I long to trespass down that path again | |
And though I' ve no regrets | |
I can still recall when the first leaves fall | |
How I lost my way | |
Parachuting into darkness | |
Doesn' t every wounded hero live to fight again? | |
I' m baling out | |
But the profiteers stole my surplus years | |
Am I somersaulting headlong into the ground? |
I can tell myself I know the answers | |
Try to puzzle out the painful things I' ve yet to learn | |
But i don' t understand the subtle plan | |
And still I wonder | |
As the seeds we' ve sown fall to earth and grow | |
In a barren land | |
Sheltered in our seasoned hardness | |
Shall we shed a stagnant tear to ease our wooden hearts? | |
Well that depends | |
With our precious hands clutching painted sand | |
And our broken wheels in doubt as we turn for home | |
Melting in a dream of gardens | |
I was walking through the trees when someone called my name | |
I long to trespass down that path again | |
And though I' ve no regrets | |
I can still recall when the first leaves fall | |
How I lost my way | |
Parachuting into darkness | |
Doesn' t every wounded hero live to fight again? | |
I' m baling out | |
But the profiteers stole my surplus years | |
Am I somersaulting headlong into the ground? |