Heading back your way
Heading back over to the cold shoulder of Ontario
And I'm tracing your face with words to a page
That I found on the plane
And the skies are clear
In Barcelona
No storms ahead here
And the skies are clear
In Barcelona
No storms ahead or anything at all
And I had to leave that place
As well as that damned city
Home to all the stress that it'd bring me
I packed up my words of lost hurt that I made
And I fucked off to Spain
'Cause the skies are clear
In Barcelona
No storms ahead here
And the skies are clear
In Barcelona
No storms ahead or anything at all
At all, at all, at all
At all
I'm heading back your way
Heading back over to the cold shoulder of Ontario
And I'm tracing your face with words to a page
That I found on the plane
'Cause the skies are clear
In Barcelona
No storms ahead here
And the skies are clear
In Barcelona
No storms ahead or anything at all
I wanna be the grass that flicker
Like feathers on a hill within a salted breeze
Under cool and kind weather
Shaped by the scent of the sea
