Dark mean

Acoustic

Dark mean
Picked you out
Heard your name
Told you mine
In a scene someone frames

And we’re made of paint
And our colors smear
Across the page
Come here

And we swirl and dance
With the falling leaves
And disguise ourselves
In the orange, red, yellow autumn breeze

Can you see?
I hope we dry slowly

All we need
Are these leaves
Like two trees
We don’t speak

But I can tell you
That I love you

All we need
Are these leaves
Like two trees
We don’t speak

I can tell you
That I love you

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