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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
We spent our last summer Together planting trees By the fence in our backyard And watered them every day They were the apple of our eyes When we grow old And have kids of our own They'll be tall And block the view Of the factories on the other side of the road We hear them in the morning We hear them at night The squealing of machines The voices of people Talking in their sleep Walking in their sleep Aging photographs Are housing our stories now The squealing of machines The voices of people Talking in their sleep Walking in their sleep Your family built a house One hundred years ago In the middle of a field No one around for miles And miles and miles and miles and miles ... The grass decayed And turned to concrete But our roots are strong They'll break through They'll break through When the factories rust and crumble We hear them in the morning We hear them at night Aging photographs Are housing our stories now |