I can see all the fallen branches from the trees
left beside the road
Ready to be burned for the Fete
For the summer season had arrived
the season of dismay
I would see all of the shapes in the corner
I would levitate the sun to climb
Over the lead lights
All were like headlights
Over this arch of mine
I can see all the mounds of lemons
by the trees from the cemetery
Skipping on the lane was the son
from the farthest place
that I had been since I came away
I could see all of the shapes in the corner
I would levitate the sun to climb
Over the lead lights
All were like headlights
Over this arch of mine
I could see all of the shapes in the corner
I would levitate the sun to climb
Over the lead lights
All were like headlights
Over this arch of mine
I can see all the fallen branches from the trees
left beside the road
Ready to be burned for the Fete
For the summer season had arrived
the season of dismay
I can see all the mounds of lemons
by the trees from the cemetery
Skipping on the lane was the son
from the farthest place
that I had been since I came away
I can see all the fallen branches from the trees
left beside the road
Ready to be burned for the Fete
For the summer season had arrived
the season of dismay
of d
I can see all the fallen branches from the trees
left beside the road
Ready to be burned for the Fete
For the summer season had arrived
the season of dismay
I would see all of the shapes in the corner
I would levitate the sun to climb
Over the lead lights
All were like headlights
Over this arch of mine
I can see all the mounds of lemons
by the trees from the cemetery
Skipping on the lane was the son
from the farthest place
that I had been since I came away
I could see all of the shapes in the corner
I would levitate the sun to climb
Over the lead lights
All were like headlights
Over this arch of mine
I could see all of the shapes in the corner
I would levitate the sun to climb
Over the lead lights
All were like headlights
Over this arch of mine
I can see all the fallen branches from the trees
left beside the road
Ready to be burned for the Fete
For the summer season had arrived
the season of dismay
I can see all the mounds of lemons
by the trees from the cemetery
Skipping on the lane was the son
from the farthest place
that I had been since I came away
I can see all the fallen branches from the trees
left beside the road
Ready to be burned for the Fete
For the summer season had arrived
the season of dismay
of d