Girlyman
House Song
I don't hear wind up in the treesNothing stirs those ancient leavesAnd I don't know what begins it, the growing of the vinesThe deep descending patterns of the wrinkling of timeLike that little plastic flowerpot still sitting on the stairsHolding a dead bougainvillea from last year's burst of repairsAnd all of the fences we built then are still holding in the dogsOf our love, of our love, of our loveEvery old place, every old timeI thought I knew my haunted mindThought I picked through every longing a million years agoAt night I dream I'm flying down an endless open roadBut our old Toyota is still frozen in the mudHow I begged you to leave it on the street during the floodAnd how it sank further in the more we graveled and dugOur love, our love, our loveOutside it's warm, the first of springThe opening of everythingAnd this is what we wanted, a place to settle downBut nothing can prepare you for the gravity of groundAnd our old foundation is so settled in its wayI've got less baby and less to sayAnd all the paint and rearranging never seems to stir the dustOf our love, of our love, of our love
From Letras Mania