Sycamores

We're standing cold: a pair of idiots with frozen toes
And eyes the size of sycamores

You're looking lost I'm looking at my ancient pocket watch
And wondering where all the years go

Well I come back to you every time we're warm
And we dissect all our tiny wars

It's in the air if I should dare to help you out or not
See, I'm not sure that I'm capable
I was never shown, and I guess I'll never know

I carry crosses made from all the pieces that I lost
You carry bags of what you got
We grace our days trying to never place the blame to faces
But always let them out to talk

Well I come back to you every time we're warm
And we join up all the polkadots

Now I'm not sure if I'm the cure or if I'm much use at all
It's hard to tell just who's talking when our voices channel all our ghosts

Haunted homes are where the heart is
Close the door and carry me
Over boards of grain and amber
Through the darkened dusty parlour
Round the garden, round
Now carry me
Up the stairs and to the window
Blinds draw streetlight stripes against you
Across your eyes - I keep my sorrows crossed
Now carry me
Over grass down to the water
Set me down and hold my trembles
I didn't mean to ask so much
I know it tires you out to carry me

Now with our eyes all closed we jump in rivers fully clothed
And hope our shoes will not fall off

Well I come back to you every time we're warm
And I ask you how you're getting on

You know, there's no one out there who I'd rather share a pod with
Yeah, I think I get your motives even when I breathe incompetence
Well, we see in leaves and branches and we creak when there's a storm

I want to be your source of calm
And maybe even half a man

But I'm not sure that I'm capable
I was never shown and I guess I'll never know