Ryan Montbleau - Pleasurefields Lyrics
Quiet, auburn, oaken chestCherry tobaccan and nightworn--The leaves are at their ripest.Wool-knit and fire-warmedBrisk is somewhere near.But for now, just a hazy, ever-burning maze of red ash will flush us clear.In it.Within it.Waves pass through, but understanding that youre there.And in a rush of airiness,Lightly hammered into shape,Frozen amber thawed and stewed in crusted September bake,And comes the sunshineHoney hazeMaze of Eon in a day of daysA comfort in each airNothing rotten, not yet bare.In it.Within it.Waves pass through, but understanding that youre there.There in that honeysuckle glow,Youd swear you saw it,Youd swear youd known,Whether yellow-feathered cottontail,Or bluebird singing sigh,Youd touched the air with tongue,Taste of sun,Touch of sky.