atlantic - the weather station lyrics
my god, i thought what a sunset
blood red floods the atlantic
with a wine in my hand, laid
back in the grass of some stranger’s field
while shearwaters reeled overhead
thinking i should get all this dying off of my mind
i should really know better than to read the headlines
does it matter if i see it? why can’t i just cover my eyes?
in the half light, soft wind on my skin
pink clouds massing on the cliffs
thinking how can i touch this
how can i touch this softest
petal, softest stem, softest leaf, bending, green, in my palm?
thinking i should get all this dying off of my mind
i should really know better than to read the headlines
does it matter if i see? no really
can i not just cover my eyes?
oh tell me, why can’t i just cover my eyes?
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