Willard Grant Conspiracy

Breach

Willard Grant Conspiracy


Breach

Freshly tuned
And finely scarred
This rare kiss
As sad as snow
And I wait for the sound
Of the wind and the rain
And I try to spell out
The letters of my name

Fragile boned
And cradle bound
This small matter
Turns to breach
All that shudders
And all that matters
Turns to grieve
And we sit
Sit in sunlight
Made simple by the clouds
And we cancel
All our blind spots
No one needs to know how

Broken codes
And busted statues
This soft embrace
I listen closely
To hear what matters
In the walls of your chest
And we sit
Sit in sunlight
Made dumb by the wind
And we cast out
Cast out shadows
No one needs
To know our name
Mary of the Angles

Bright lights
Little city
It’s a dusty old town
The lights all look pretty
When your sky ward bound
I’m sitting in the window seat
Wondering when I’ll see clouds

Mary of the Angels, Mary of the angels
Mary of the Angels, calls to me

With a blessing for a mouth
And big blue eyes
A generous laugh
Always takes me by surprise
I hold in my memory
Every goodbye kiss

Chorus

Every time that I leave
I look forward to coming home
I know that sounds small
But sometimes small things matter most
There’s a hole inside of me
That only you seem to fill

Chorus

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