Glory

Wye Oak

Compositor: Não Disponível

I see his eyes moving away from me
Oh no, is this another end of trust?
He knows he holds them in your nose for me
But what a gate is at the cost
We share the cold and grace of cousins

I want the rift I've seen somewhere else before
And as I wonder at his answers be
How mess in leaving out the door

I hid the trail, you have no story
How else my way is the requisition of faith
I hear his lips behind this glory
But all that I hear is me without faith

So from the fog of every morning
Until the heat of day is here
I watch the clock 'cause it comes backwards
I see the order run up you

I hid the trail, you have no story
How else my way is the requisition of faith
I hear his lips behind this glory
But all that I hear is me without faith

I hid the trail, you have no story
How else my way is the requisition of faith
I hear his lips behind this glory
But all that I hear is me without faith