Grow up
Like a tree
Lay down your fears to me
Branches brush the clouds pink
Like summer reflected in the kitchen sink
Grow up
Try to breathe
Rust blue and mid November
Arms down on my counter
God loves a dull knife
You’re in the back seat
Try to call me
The theory of mystery
Impossible everything
To be beloved
Simple to read
And I can’t see
Through the clouds
But there are voices now
Their whispers hard to hear
There meaning easy to discern
Good omens for all the time
Pace around the tide
Shore up your worried mind
You’ll do beautiful things
Grow up
Like a tree
Lay down your fears to me
Branches brush the clouds pink
Like summer reflected in the kitchen sink
Grow up
Try to breathe