歌词
If photographs would tell a story
Would these postcards be in black and white
Shaded by the leaves that bind so freely
Cracks in the trees let through the light
Do the trees whisper on the side walk
Do the waves in the water talk
If I sketch out an atlas on the lake skin
Drift as wood as I wait
If I take back the compass to the water
Would I find you or would it be too late
If I sketch out an atlas on the lake skin
Drift as wood as I wait
If I take back the compass to the water
Would I find you or would it be too late
Do the trees whisper on the side walk
Do the waves in the water talk
If I sketch out an atlas on the lake skin
Drift as wood as I wait
If I take back the compass to the water
Would I find you or would it be too late
If I sketch out an atlas on the lake skin
Drift as wood as I wait
If I take back the compass to the water
Would I find you or would it be too late