Song | Skimming Stones |
Artist | Autamata |
Album | Short Stories |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
We would hold a stone aligned with the horizon | |
And then release | |
It would skim and ride until it dipped beneath the water-line | |
We made helicopters from sycamore fruits | |
Those machines were simple | |
On their way down, turning | |
I remember scenes painted in watercolours | |
The colour of dreams | |
And then patterns formed and nothing more could stem the rising tide | |
We broke the surface tension | |
We broke the surface | |
Now these stones beneath my clothes will always bear the watermark |