All the windows are playing their game
|
Where I won't see outside again
|
Til I write all the fog away
|
I;m putting words in their place
|
Between me and the window's pane
|
From my inarticulate brain
|
But all of the fog is erased
|
When I write all the words that I never said
|
To you
|
|
Now the impulse won't go away
|
"Distracted by something?" you'd say
|
Cause you don't see anything
|
It's just between windows and me
|
Wait till it rains again
|
And I write all the words that I never said
|
To you
|
|
Will you try to read these lines?
|
Focus hard to give it time
|
Who you are in my life
|
Reads as the water washes
|
|
Now the dirt on the window is showing
|
I should have drawn something instead
|
I should never have written my head
|
I should never have written what I never said
|
To you
|
|
-----------------
|
Window Song
|
| Finger Eleven |
