On The Page – Maggie Rogers

Follow
The flight of the north moving birds
Steady
The echo, the great moving herd

They fly through the night
Fill their wings and their sights
With cold air and pale shadowed moons

Oh lover, kid you not
Though we promised a lot
I must fly from you

So hold me
Sing me to sleep
On the crest of a late breaking wave
And write me
Into your thoughts
I’ll be safe with the words on the page

Shadow
The light plays its own little games
Dream world
Its own silent claim to remain

And it’ll follow you still
Through the streams and the hills
And remnants of gold autumn leaves

Oh lover, you can walk
But your shadow still stalks
From between the trees

So hold me
Sing me to sleep
On the crest of a late breaking wave
And write me
Into your thoughts
I’ll be safe with the words on the page