Can't stop thinking 'bout it
It fills me with unease
Out there by the roadside
Something's buried
Under sycamore leaves
Wet grounds, late September
The foliage up the trees
I came upon this feeling
That someone's lying
Covered by sycamore leaves
And I could never make it
And I could never see
I could never break out
And shake its grip on me
Sycamore leaves
And I could never make it
And I could never see
I could never break out
And shake its grip on me
Can't stop thinking 'bout it
It fills me with unease
Out there by the roadside
Something's buried
Under sycamore leaves
It fills me with unease
Out there by the roadside
Something's buried
Under sycamore leaves
Wet grounds, late September
The foliage up the trees
I came upon this feeling
That someone's lying
Covered by sycamore leaves
And I could never make it
And I could never see
I could never break out
And shake its grip on me
Sycamore leaves
And I could never make it
And I could never see
I could never break out
And shake its grip on me
Can't stop thinking 'bout it
It fills me with unease
Out there by the roadside
Something's buried
Under sycamore leaves
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!