Feathers, Twine and Kindling
What I want, you've got, enough for the both of us.
When I watch you sing, the notes dig right into me.
Baby bird, your feeble song: my wooden frame.
Does mercy look the other way?
Way up high, the tallest tree, your love has been withheld from me,
And like Pinocchio, I hang my head with puppet's string.
And some nights I feel so light, those weighted wires carry me.
Let me off, lift me up, let me off.
I saw something different every time I'd look.
Maybe your wings were ready; maybe your time had come.
For a moment you'd reconsidered, for a season you'd return.
This boy could feel his heart beat, from his hollowed cedar chest.
As I hung like a ghost in the window sill, while the rest of the house fell into a great sleep, I heard a rustle in your tree, your familiar melody, played out like the grooves of an old Carole King album, soft and sweet with the soul of an aging gospel choir.
God, could you cut the strings? Would you bring her back to me?
Make the big decisions easy. Oh, am I anything?
Well, what I need is a pretty thing, someone to take the edge off me and what I see has never seemed so far from here.
Baby bird, your siren song, my fragile frame is fracturing.
I'm fracturing, I'm factoring that God still has the upper hand.
More Than Skies - Feathers, Twine, and Kindling Lyrics
More Than Skies - Feathers, Twine, and Kindling Lyrics
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English
Feathers, Twine and Kindling
What I want, you've got, enough for the both of us.
When I watch you sing, the notes dig right into me.
Baby bird, your feeble song: my wooden frame.
Does mercy look the other way?
Way up high, the tallest tree, your love has been withheld from me,
And like Pinocchio, I hang my head with puppet's string.
And some nights I feel so light, those weighted wires carry me.
Let me off, lift me up, let me off.
I saw something different every time I'd look.
Maybe your wings were ready; maybe your time had come.
For a moment you'd reconsidered, for a season you'd return.
This boy could feel his heart beat, from his hollowed cedar chest.
As I hung like a ghost in the window sill, while the rest of the house fell into a great sleep, I heard a rustle in your tree, your familiar melody, played out like the grooves of an old Carole King album, soft and sweet with the soul of an aging gospel choir.
God, could you cut the strings? Would you bring her back to me?
Make the big decisions easy. Oh, am I anything?
Well, what I need is a pretty thing, someone to take the edge off me and what I see has never seemed so far from here.
Baby bird, your siren song, my fragile frame is fracturing.
I'm fracturing, I'm factoring that God still has the upper hand.
What I want, you've got, enough for the both of us.
When I watch you sing, the notes dig right into me.
Baby bird, your feeble song: my wooden frame.
Does mercy look the other way?
Way up high, the tallest tree, your love has been withheld from me,
And like Pinocchio, I hang my head with puppet's string.
And some nights I feel so light, those weighted wires carry me.
Let me off, lift me up, let me off.
I saw something different every time I'd look.
Maybe your wings were ready; maybe your time had come.
For a moment you'd reconsidered, for a season you'd return.
This boy could feel his heart beat, from his hollowed cedar chest.
As I hung like a ghost in the window sill, while the rest of the house fell into a great sleep, I heard a rustle in your tree, your familiar melody, played out like the grooves of an old Carole King album, soft and sweet with the soul of an aging gospel choir.
God, could you cut the strings? Would you bring her back to me?
Make the big decisions easy. Oh, am I anything?
Well, what I need is a pretty thing, someone to take the edge off me and what I see has never seemed so far from here.
Baby bird, your siren song, my fragile frame is fracturing.
I'm fracturing, I'm factoring that God still has the upper hand.
Writer: Adam Tomlinson
Copyright: Lyrics © ONErpm
Copyright: Lyrics © ONErpm