Be Still, Cody - The painter's vision is not a lens | Текст песни

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• Be Still, Cody
• The painter's vision is not a lens

There’s something imagined, not recalled. Bright and raw, bits of street, browning leaves: a collection of images.

I was afraid for
I was afraid for you
For your tendency to
let the past live
let the past live on
inside of your head
And I still pray for
and I still pray for you
to find your way home
And as the days grow
and as the days grow short
the air’s familiar.

Forget what I said “I need you” I’m not waiting I believe you now. The past is a mess of misguided feelings. There’s something in the air, I see it drifting towards me I can’t make it out. The past is a memory, solid with yearning.

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