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Plane
Mount Moriah
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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I fell for you in your attic
Over the hum and grind of afternoon traffic
We should be pleased to have shared the breeze or a bus
Now you ask what was the fuss
It was the tone of your letter
And the fit of herringbone sweater
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You know it's true,
I would sell this shelf full of records
For a ride to your affection
All these delays and transferred planes
Oh I would number the days and time zone changes
Another mountain range and I'm headed south again
Back to the Blue Ridge and the red, red clay
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And I'd rather be resting in your arms
Than this window seat
Where everything's clear and warm
In the stratosphere in these heated chairs
Oh the thin, thin air
I just wanna be down there
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