Barcelona

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