This Season Of Ours

The constellation swooned out of focus and my eyes closed, so we could see more, a kiss, quick breath, a moment. The headlights we thought was heaven took us above and beyond, driving away the pallid dashing raindrops. So bury me in leaves and bring me out in spring, this season of ours cannot be topped.

So staple my buried ambitions to an old certainty and we'll glide.

Quickly my eyes will focus on your mysterious look, the moment is nigh, it's cold and you're here, oh sharing pillows. Freely giving scent I breathe in, soft hair, we're so close and you know, we'll stare out the window and make shapes out of the stars. Bury me in leaves and bring me out in spring, this season of ours cannot be topped.

So staple my buried ambitions to an old certainty and we'll glide.

I want to, I want you, I want to, I want to be with you.

So staple my buried ambitions to an old certainty and we'll glide.

The constellation swooned out of focus and my eyes closed.

Written by Chris Yeoman, David Yeoman and Vincent White - The Cardiac Solution