(One, two, three, four)
(One, two, three, four)
(One, two, three, four)

I'll run down
Lay my weight where it lies
I'll come round
Out in sheltering sky
Seek you out
Like I wanted it when
It was eighty-eight out
And the apricot flowers were coming in

And I feel worn, but the air is clean
And my clothes are torn, but it's right on me
Passing rain, blue white heat
Agony, not to me, it's not defeat

No one here
Say we waited our while
Good idea
Crowding out of those aisles
Nowhere near
Where I thought we would be
But one and the same
The drought or the rain to me

And I've been a while gone
But the air is clean
And I had it all wrong
But I made my peace
Passing thought, empty street
Agony, not to me, it's not defeat

I've been bright, I've been faded
I'm nearly halfway through
Barely believe we made it
When I met eyes with you
I caught a walking fever
I know how all this ends
Palm over my receiver
Cradling me again

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Robin Pecknold