Are you not that Sycamore place
Where my thoughts turn and cling?
A familiar voice
And a flutter of silver leaves
And a swell of strings
Is it not you that seeks me out
So is goodness and holds me dear
Who draws me out
With pen in hand again
With my heart laid there?
It's you
Oh my darling its you
Oh my darling
It's you
A gentle breeding in the morning
Let the exodus begin
We've left this place 9,000 times
And we'll leave it again
And in the evening that makes you so lovely
We'll find a place to be
In this world of music
A flurry of castanets
You are there with me
And it's you
Oh my darling it's you
Oh my darling
It's you ...