The seasons are emerging,
The landscape is, the landscape is
At some point, I realised
Can relate to those I pass by
On streets, on rail, on sea, on sky
Deforest me, the flame subsides
I am not special, there's comfort in that
But that's a different fish and kettle
This one here is flagged and speckled
With good intentions but little record
Landscapers, bro, landscapers
There's nothing left of note left to begin
Are we always just search
I often think of lies I've told
Those I've hurt, the pain I've wrought
We try, we try to succeed, but not
Endless, endless, repeat, default
But given that forgiveness in the event
is different to when we come and see
The different points of view,
once again of me and you are you,
The landscape is sprawling,
The seasons are emerging,
the spirits they're soaring
The landscape is soaring,
The landscape is, the landscape is
Don't I escape in a daze?
There's something left of me,
Caught me out of the negatives
Are we always just searching for perspective?
4.8
