Paul Weller - Picking Up Sticks: lyrics de la chanson

Come blackest crow
Start the wheat field blow
In a wind so high
It waves and glows
'til you can't see the wood for the trees
I'm like anybody on their knees
Trying to find a way to make it fit
Picking up sticks

Let's swirl again
Take us far away
To the church bell's chime
In a far distant field
To a place where so lately so slow
And a time I feel like letting it go
Far away enough to catch our breath
I know where and everyone there
Looking to click
Picking up sticks

Come crimson rays