(Verse 1)
And I tremble, like the fingers on a violin
Like i'm writing down the meaning of my life with a dying pen
She would linger like the fragrance of a summer time rain
And left around the same time the butterflies came
In the shade from the clay carafe
We'd drink wine from the
Vineyards of the grapes of wrath
I'd draw blood from my fingertips
On blades of grass
So i could illustrate her silhoutte on panes of glass
But, our little lilac petals would wilt
Before the autumn fell asleep beneath an ivory quilt
If i could rebuild the skies
With a bottle a milk
Then I would finger paint the clouds
That would hide in the hills
She said

(Chorus)
"These are days where we should be alone
But, our time has gone
Ice and concrete where flowers should have grown"

(Verse 2)
And it fades like a mother's summer dress in the sun
Like the stained glass promise that we kept on our tongues
Underdeveloped and young, with initials in an oak tree
Looking for a meadow where they said the willows don't weep
There was a cold breeze whipping through the prairie
That would carry all the rose seeds through the cemetery
But apparently they'll never be buried before the frost
And she said she had a heart can't be married by the cross
So when the cedars seemed to smother under chalk dust
We would lose the comfort of a summer's lost love
And the colors that would dye the skin
In December, as i tremble like the fingers on a violin

(Chorus)
"These are days where we should be alone
But, our time has gone
Ice and concrete where flowers should have grown"