And when the fire's dim, The moths stole to the morning, I still won't have told her, I still won't know how. Not one to see the signs, She'll just stare at the embers, Playing games with my hands. Insisting on innocence.
And when the trees are dark, The leaves filling their spaces, The fire's all but gone, and She's calm in my arms. I can feel her breathing, Her little hands in mine, Playing games with my head. Insisting on innocence.
Insisting on innocence..
And when the sea is ink, The cranes sent to the ocean, I still won't have told her, I still won't know how. She's a complication, she's Better off not knowing, she's Playing games with his hands.