Bramble

I had a lovely weekend. This is because of a flat full of visitors, plenty of good food, charity shops and the carboot sale, purchasing lots of lovely crockery, David Attenborough, books about Incas and pharaohs, cheap-as-chips Mazzy Star and Antifolk and Life Aquatic soundtrack CDs, and a Tegan and Sara gig tonight to top everything off. The only thing that could have made it better would have been being able to hang out with my fleeting best boy before he flew off atop his skis, and seeing a beautiful girl on her birthday before her black eye'd incident...

Rains fell cold through June.
Grass is up to my thigh.
Say if it dries up, it'll burn just like the moon.
Say it opens up the seeds of the pine.

I only want to dream about you,
The dollar that could spend but I should save.
Just to see my fingers in your hair,
The golden wheat around us and beneath us where we lay.

You're a slow ride down a country mile.
You're the smell of apple pie to the blind.
You're the last light on a July western sky.
You're the center of the watermelon. You're a sweet, sweet smile.

Cottonwoods shakin' in the breeze,
Surrounded by a starry sky.
Easy to forgive the things we need.
Easy to stumble around mostly blind.

I could tell you not to come in from the storm.
I could tell you not to be so kind.
I could tell you not to close the door.
I could say I never wanted you for mine.

Rains fell cold through June.
Grass is up to my thigh.
Say if it dries up, it'll burn just like the moon.
Say it opens up the seeds of the pine.
(Martha Scanlan)

I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You - Colin Hay