The Painting - Leaves
There's a tree on the hill
Everything comes unreal
Instruments without sound
Lying flat on the ground
Raise hand to the sky
You'll reach the shimmering and glimmering trembling stars
In this place I have seen
All the peaces come clear
Little words that I fear
Whispered close to my ear
In your arms I rest
When the morning makes cracks in the air
Peacefully
Until til until until until
'Til it all falls apart
And the daylight brakes free
Then it's just you and me
There's a tree on the hill
So real
And all cause of you you you