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Description
When the grass is damp and the moon is out
You'd like everything to be silver
But they're really hues of blue
When you stare at a single star alone
You will find its neighbors within the trip of a minute
And follow them across indigo canvas

As far as the sun is concerned
The moon is just a projection of himself
Glorified because of a product the sun perpetually excretes
The moon, she is gentle, as her name may suggest
Dims the heat, the intensity, of what the sun offers
Bathes the landscape in a blanket of luminous silk

You can put a fist on your lips
But I'll just move it aside
And replace it with my finger instead
You can dodge every kiss I blow
I'll take your hand, touch the back of it
My lips will meet your fingertips instead

But like the haze of a humid summer scorch session
There is a distortion that seems to pain my efforts
I should stop fighting it now...
When the moon comes tonight, I will walk
The silk-laid grasses
And find you again, my love

Description
When the grass is damp and the moon is out
You'd like everything to be silver
But they're really hues of blue
When you stare at a single star alone
You will find its neighbors within the trip of a minute
And follow them across indigo canvas

As far as the sun is concerned
The moon is just a projection of himself
Glorified because of a product the sun perpetually excretes
The moon, she is gentle, as her name may suggest
Dims the heat, the intensity, of what the sun offers
Bathes the landscape in a blanket of luminous silk

You can put a fist on your lips
But I'll just move it aside
And replace it with my finger instead
You can dodge every kiss I blow
I'll take your hand, touch the back of it
My lips will meet your fingertips instead

But like the haze of a humid summer scorch session
There is a distortion that seems to pain my efforts
I should stop fighting it now...
When the moon comes tonight, I will walk
The silk-laid grasses
And find you again, my love