Sycamore - Saint Etienne

I’m thinking of them

I’m thinking of your new green dress

I saw it unfold on my

Near Bepindton Fair

Tall sycamores, your raven hair

I saw it so slow through the tall grass

I’m thinking of them

I’m thinking of strings through the air

The night was so long and dizzy

Let’s travel again

To fall upon three chimneys well

The tower so low

You were mistaken