Paul Weller - Picking Up Sticks
Come Blackest Crow In A Wind So High Start The Wheat Field Blow It Waves And Glows 'til You Can't See The Wood For The Trees I'm Like Anybody On Their Knees Picking Up Sticks Trying To Find A Way To Make It Fit Let's Swirl Again Take Us Far Away To A Place Where So Lately So Slow To The Church Bell's Chime In A Far Distant Field And A Time I Feel Like Letting It Go Far Away Enough To Catch Our Breath I Know Where And Everyone There Looking To Click Paint Us All The Same Picking Up Sticks You Know The Magic Is Why And It's Here Again Come Crimson Rays Now You Can't See The Wood For The Trees Now Like Anybody On Their Knees Looking To Click Picking Up Sticks Far Away Enough To Catch Our Breath
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