Picking up Sticks — текст песни (Paul Weller)

Come blackest crow

Start the wheat field blow

In a wind so high

It waves and glows

til you cant see the wood for the trees

Im like anybody on their knees

Trying to find a way to make it fit

Picking up sticks



Lets swirl again

Take us far away

To the church bells chime

In a far distant field

To a place where so lately so slow

And a time I feel like letting it go

Far away enough to catch our breath

I know where and everyone there

Looking to click

Picking up sticks



Come crimson rays

Paint us all the same

You know the magic is why

And its here again

Now you cant see the wood for the trees

Now like anybody on their knees

Far away enough to catch our breath

Looking to click

Picking up sticks