Clouds crash on the hillside. Set to sail your soul at high tide. High time you left that shadow, Dead weight in the meadow. Let it follow far below. Oh, Oh, Oh Whoa, what a ceiling! All the angels cracked and peeling, Revealing constellations, One day you will name one, After a boy you knew When you were back in middle school And engraved his name in love notes, Everyone retained though, In a box, behind your raincoats. Oh, those days Where rainy days meant Traces, Faces, Raindrops made when Racing cross the windshield The pace of life wasn't real Oh, though how we quicken How the slope began to slicken You slip into a grin then, Begin with where you've been and In my linen you are skin again. La da da La da da da da daa Da da daa Da daa daa La da da daa da da daa daa Oh, oh, clouds crash on the hillside. Set to sail your soul at high tide. High time you left that shadow, Dead weight in the meadow. In my linen you are skin again.