No time, no place to talk about the weather
The promise of love is hard to ignore
Who said the chance wasn't getting any better
The labor of love is ours to endure
The highest branch on the apple tree
It was my favorite place to be
I could hear them breaking free
But they could not see me

I will run for shelter
Endless summer lift the curse
It feels like nothing matters
In our private universe

I have all I want, is that simple enough?
A whole lot more I'm thinking of
Every night about six o'clock
Birds come back to the pond to talk
They talk to me -- birds to talk to me
If I go down on my knees

It feels like nothing matters
In our private universe

And it's a pleasure that I have known
And it's a treasure that I have gained
And it's a pleasure that I have known

It's a tight squeeze, but I won't let go
Time is on the table and the dinner's cold

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): NEIL MULLANE FINN