One Hundred Leaves - The Clientele

We left in the spring

In a dying afternoon

Like the hours inside the hours

When we stared from the windows of the school

And she picks her way through elms

In that moment once again

With the darkness coming down

I don’t know what more I can say

But the friends inside my mind

Are they really in the night?

Watching the corners turn corners

All that summer in some wood we waited out the hours

Buried in the hollows of the wind

Telephone was ringing and the ashes in the air

Rising, turning, falling

Days are out of tune, midnight at noon

And it opened your heart like a lover

I burned down to the skin

Holding you in 'til the sins died away