Visions Of July Songtext
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Gordon and Angela are sprawled out on the sofa,
one on one side, one's head on the other.
And a boy stands in a doorway where a bedroom door stands open,
he's saying things no one's awake to hear.
And all the leaves outside are dying,
you can tell that he is crying.
He pulls on his parka, kisses them softly,
closes the door, and he disappears.
Oh...
When he got back he knew so much.
Like the frozen swing set flowers, how they opened at his touch.
Or the many places favorite singers have been,
as favorite singers hardly understand.
Like singing kitchen floor requiems in northern or southern small towns,
their words and chords dripping through the cracks of my wet hands.
But I've just woken from a dream as beautiful, he said.
Dad, please don't wipe the sleep yet from my eyes.
And though the colors are swirling,
and the whole world's coming back,
I will not shake those visions of July.
one on one side, one's head on the other.
And a boy stands in a doorway where a bedroom door stands open,
he's saying things no one's awake to hear.
And all the leaves outside are dying,
you can tell that he is crying.
He pulls on his parka, kisses them softly,
closes the door, and he disappears.
Oh...
When he got back he knew so much.
Like the frozen swing set flowers, how they opened at his touch.
Or the many places favorite singers have been,
as favorite singers hardly understand.
Like singing kitchen floor requiems in northern or southern small towns,
their words and chords dripping through the cracks of my wet hands.
But I've just woken from a dream as beautiful, he said.
Dad, please don't wipe the sleep yet from my eyes.
And though the colors are swirling,
and the whole world's coming back,
I will not shake those visions of July.
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