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I am an apple tree, covered up in your leaves And no one else can feel my skin Your head's a burning cloud, that never lets it out,Until the desert cries your name But now, my hands are the words in your mouthMy fingers are the days that you countMy eyes are the love as you doubt(...) naked as we are in the woods Without a (...) (...) Naked as we are in the woods Without a (...) This weight it feels so cursedI hear it calling out, over everything And over everyone, I saw a native sonwaiting to hear my voice tooBut now, my hands are the words in your mouthMy fingers are the days that you countMy eyes are the love as you doubt And over everyone, I saw a native sonWaiting to hear my voice too From Letras Mania