Looking at her shoe
When I see it's not there anymore
Bare feet
On concrete
Harder than her bones
Weaker than her thoughts
Love can be
What we see
But she tells me
That what you feel cannot be seen
Or touched by me
Surprisingly
On a Sunday afternoon the sun's brighter than the moon
I just want to make ourselves alive
The girl around the corner
She's selling clementines
Her speech
Defers from misery
The stories of her life
You would not believe your eyes
Love can be
What we see
But she tells me
That what you feel cannot be seen
Or touched by me
Surprisingly
On a Sunday afternoon the sun's brighter than the moon
And her skin
Is softer than her dress of silk
That's dark like the shadows in her eyes
That say something
They say something
They say something
She doesn't even realise
Love can be
What we see
But she tells me
That what you feel cannot be seen
Or touched by me
Surprisingly
On a Sunday afternoon the sun's brighter than the moon
And I don't
Believe
That there's no other form
Of relief
