There’s a note
That the world plays out of tune
Some silver afternoon
And you see the sunlight dying on the lawn
Paul Verlaine, Paul Verlaine
Such an in- such an insubstantial day
Sometimes in a lonely alleyway
Everything cracks like porcelain
Paul Verlaine, Paul Verlaine
Such an in- such an insubstantial day
All the empty sidewalks in the street
All the voices in the fields
What if they’re real?
Paul Verlaine, Paul Verlaine
Such an in- such an insubstantial day
All the empty sidewalks in the street
All the voices in the fields
What if they’re real?