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No one in sight for fifty miles, |
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sleeping fields sigh as I glide across their spines |
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If I could just reach the crest of that hill |
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this whole day will tumble and out the night will spill |
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|
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The sky is still as a spinning top, |
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shooting stars drop like burning words from above |
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If I could just connect all these dots, |
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the truth would tumble like a Cynic vexed by love |
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And yet the people keep saying |
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I'm miles from my home, |
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miles from my home |
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I met you again in my sleep last night, |
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these are days of slow boats and false starts |
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Hearts remain under lock and key, |
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you will be the one to set them both free |
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|
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And yet the people will tell you |
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your miles from your home, |
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miles from your home |
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But that's where I want to be |
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Out there searching, |
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out here fumbling, |
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out here waiting, |
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for you and you for me |
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The moon hangs like a question mark, |
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pale as milk, bold as a promise |
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When will you share the sights with us? |
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when will we hold you in our arms? |
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And the people we'll tell them |
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we're miles from our home, |
|
miles from our home |
