She moves like a ghost
Sleepless eyes and weathered bones
She is glass, and smoke, and all things in between.
But it seems,
That she floats amongst the falling leaves.
She is all the places I have never been.
So maybe you're a bluebird, darling,
Tearing through the darkness of my days.
Maybe you're a drop of water,
Running down the lines upon my face.
A thought from a dream,
She is the light I've always seen.
A raging fire, rolling down the street.
And a port in the storm,
An everlasting sort of warmth,
I see her eyes in every soul I meet.
So maybe you're a bluebird, darling,
Tearing through the darkness of my days.
Maybe you're a drop of water,
Running down the lines upon my face.
You pull me from this
World that can seem loveless,
And this soil that steals my one chance
Of ever breaking free...
So maybe you're a bluebird, darling,
Tearing through the darkness of my days.
Maybe you're a drop of water,
Running down the lines upon my face.