Sycamore by George Gadd Lyrics

Powder blue - your eyes dart round the room
Golden by the bar light, and the night
Fractured dawn, cutting through the thorns
A kite caught up in an old oak tree for weeks
I pull and it's free

Paralysed, the apple of my eye
Was shot and split, left rotten on the ground
Sycamore, you're always standing tall
Settled by the storm that calms your mind
But I can just climb

Breaking into better shape - I left you
How am I supposed to find my way out?
But darling i'm fine