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Ley Line
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Cinnamon Fingers
Sunset, sweet smoke and long cries, baby eyes, odara is showing
I never know of my dreams at night, my memory tip toeing
Sleep under the sill and hear the warm wind on my cinnamon fingers
Dried apple tea, fireflies, simplicity after the struggle
Smile through thoughts of home,
the comfort of what we once knew please be subtle
Fallin' forwards without my toes
taught to think of where i'll go tomorrow
March april june september november two thousand twenty two
What feels right feeling comes and goes, and you're still beside me.
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