Cold And The Crackle

And this is a fine country to be in
And this is a fine country to be in

Oh under the white sky, the black limbs of trees
Oh the cold and the crackle and nothing felt right
Oh this quiet like stillness the mission begun
They were waiting around for the wasting

And in the warm night he would fly from the skies
By day he just stared at the closing in
And she just lives there like a fallen down tree
She says there are places she'd much rather be

Hе says, you know sometimes therе seems to be more of the and not so much of me
And there's more of the sky, much less of me
He knows more of the sky

And in the warm night he would fly from the skies
By day he just stared at the closing in
And she just lives there like a fallen down tree
She says there are places she'd much rather be