Falling Bough - Kiev

We try and listen close

But where we live is far too high to hear

Why don’t we come down from this

And leave the fiction to the fool that fears

Little tired

(We are) All a little tired, oh

(We are) All a little tired

(We are) All a little tired, oh

(We are)

We’re trying to hear a ghost

But just below the bough is ancient soil

Breathing out complex compost

But from above it will always seem like dirt

A little tired

It’s about that time

All a little tired

(We are) All a little tired, oh

(We are) All a little tired

(We are) All a little tired, oh

(We are) All a little tired

(We are) All a little tired, oh

(We are)

Some would have it known this is how it is

And how it’s been

Or is it because they can’t convince themselves

To put away the book and pull themselves to Earth with all?

(We are) All a little tired

(We are) All a little tired, oh

(We are) All a little tired

(We are) All a little tired, oh

(We are) All a little tired

(We are) All a little tired, oh

(We are)

(We are) All a little tired, oh

(We are)