|
Something about these woods |
|
something i like |
|
moss and an old man's beard |
|
dripping rain from a branch in the fading daylight |
|
ooh |
|
And the way you move is dancing |
|
while your mouth says funny things |
|
i'm staring at your neck |
|
thinking, thinking |
|
could i rest my faith in there? |
|
stay a while... |
|
stay a while... |
|
ooh |
|
Something about your eyes |
|
something that might |
|
melt the winter in my heart |
|
like a tongue touching snow |
|
Because the way you move is dancing |
|
while your mouth says funny things |
|
i'm staring at your neck, |
|
thinking, thinking |
|
could i rest my faith in there? |
|
stay a while... |
|
stay a while... |
|
ooh |
|
Something about your mind |
|
different, clever, kind |
|
maybe we offer each other |
|
other |
|
if i'm with you long enough |
|
to wet our wills as we grow old |
|
could you let me close |
|
to breathe your breath |
|
to touch your soul? |
|
your soul.. |
|
Cause the way you move is dancing |
|
while your mouth says funny things |
|
i'm staring at your neck, |
|
thinking, thinking |
|
could i rest my faith in there? |
|
stay a while... |
|
a while... |
|
a while... |
|
a while... |
|
ooh |
