If photographs could tell a story
Would these postcards be black in the white
Shaded by the leaves that bind so freely
Cracks in the trees let through the light
Do the trees whisper in the sidewalk
Do the waves in the water talk
If I sketch out an atlas in the lakeskin
Drift past wood as I wait
If I take back the compass to the water
Would I find you or would it be too late
Should I put the flash on the camera
I'd be scared for it to all flicker by
As we floated in the glitter of the meare
I didn't expect your reflection in the sky
Do the trees whisper in the sidewalk
Do the waves in the water talk
If I sketch out an atlas in the lakeskin
Drift past wood as I wait
If I take back the compass to the water
Would I find you or would it be too late
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