In the morning when I wake And the sun is coming through, Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness, And you fill my head with you Shall I write it in a letter? Shall I try to get it down? Oh, you

Wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart Wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart When you go, what you leave is a work of art On my chest, on my heart She went out to the hay in the morni