The Things Themselves

(álbum: Harping - 2019)

Roll out from the softness of your slumber
The sand is hot like a shooting star

Virginia [?] snow is closer than you know it's only
A smile from the face and wave of the hands that you've been counting on

Discos that colour that spawn [?] from the yellow sun
Recall the feather what fell from the wounded swan
And you'll be holding words with meanings above the things themselves
The things themselves

Don't tell me that the days move slowly
Calender leave can't fight [?] through the floor
The middle of the day and the month of May are sisters
They can trade their place making time and day unheeded

Discos that colour that spawn [?] from the yellow sun
Recall the feather what fell from the wounded swan
And you'll be holding words with meanings above the things themselves
The things themselves