Sycamore Leaves
Cant stop thinking bout it
It fills me with unease
Out there by the roadside somethings buried
Under sycamore leaves
Wet grounds, late September
The foliage of the trees
I came upon this feeling that someones lying
Covered by sycamore leaves
And I could never face it
And take a look and see
And I could never break out
And shake its grip on me
