Rising

You think this is all you will have left me:
A guitar and a voice opaque with smoke
Outside it's light and I'm still rising

You think you have taken what becomes of me;
You see a grey void that looks like you
I don't need the cast of your eyes to know I lie here

The same sun's rising even this far left of leaving
My arms still follow a trace of warmth they've harbored,
A memory of touch

You think I'm the past and don't connect me,
Thin reed of a note played out too slow
I sleep in the back of your sighs, maybe to rise there. . . .



Credits
Writer(s): Steve Chanin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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