© 2005 Midnight Island Music
We could gather seashells in our hand Hear the ocean sweep against the sand Touch the palms and see a summer storm Never far from home We could wander where the light is low Breathe the air of branches wet with snow Trace the edge of every frozen form Never far from home Some summer in confusion Some winter on the coast Some come to the conclusion That more will mean the most I summer in your kisses I winter in your charms The spring birds sing of this is I fall into your arms We could walk where endless ages run Roman roads left ruined in the sun Swim up hills of daffodils in bloom Never far from home We could ramble through the fallow fields Fallen apples underneath our heels Leave an evening staring at the moon Never far from home Some summer in confusion Some winter on the coast Some come to the conclusion That more will mean the most I summer in your kisses I winter in your charms The spring birds sing of this is I fall into your arms