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letra de letters and photographs - rebekah rolland

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even then, morning meant thumbing through pages of home and you and me
early light on the sea looks something like when the meadow is tossed in the breeze

even now, bent and bowed, built them to look like the faces of our father’s house
mother’s words hang like birds, circling over the church on the edge of town

and still, we are carrying pictures that cover the walls of our hearts
and still, we are lying and looking for traces of grace in the stars

even now, waiting round
the lilies will bloom and a southern wind will sound
you to me, a red ruby tree
fired by your faith in the spring and summer ease

and still, we are burying letters and photographs deep in the yard
and still, we are keeping them there like they’re lighting our way in the dark
keeping them there like they’re lighting our way in the dark

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