Through the window at the moor
You play with my cheek, yeah
Whisper somewhere I was born
Wrapped around inside of me
And feel a rush of air around my face
Feel the outside coming in
Look at the trees in the dark
Bending like a bony finger
Cold air wrap around my head
You play with my cheek yeah
Whisper something nearly dawn
Shiny and warm, head in a storm
Licking tar, I'm driving home to you
Coming around, coming around
Coming around, I'm driving home to you
Coming around, coming around
Coming around, I'm almost there for you