They say your home is in the sky now
They say you dream among the clouds now
Seldom found the time to be yourself
Your brushes collecting dust on a shelf
So memory dont fail her now
The road's hard to make out in this haze
Paintings hanging down the halls
Give me a chance to see what it was that you saw
Your life hanging on these walls
Sometimes i feel the warmth of summer through the cloth
They say your home is in the sky now
I mean what more could you tell a child
All this talk of what remains
As the preacher speaks of dust and ashes
Paintings hanging down the halls
Give me a chance to see the world that you saw
Your dreams hanging on these walls
Sometimes i think i hear your voice slip through the cloth
Leafs are taken by the wind
Colour this town red
Summer persists within these frames
I want to believe it did for you too
In a painted sky, a painted cloud
A brief respite for a tainted soul
A handdrawn field now covered in frost
And so i'm reminded of all that we have lost
And so i'm reminded
How could i possibly have understood?
How could i possibly have known?
How could i possibly have known?
Did it need to be so
Did it need to be so cold?
Wanted me to see.
How could i possibly have known?
Didn't have to, didn't have to, no.

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