Cottonwood from Strange Bird by Sarah Jo

It’s snowing in summer
Falling seeds from cottonwood trees
My eyes are on the fields
Yours, on me

I used to think I should warn my man
Of the burdens I carry in tow
But that seems so far off now
Just a distant nightmare of what’s below

I speak little of faith
You speak little of fate
We speak little of love
As we float silently above
As we float silently above

Wrapped in a threadbare sweater
I know these moments are fleeting and fine
The endlessness old lovers miss
Warm rains on Midwest afternoons

The smell of jasmine and timid words
Water swallows my chest
I’m drowning in my dress
Sweet is the scene when virtue dies

I speak little of faith
You speak little of fate
We speak little of love
As we float silently above
As we float silently above

Step into my garden
See what flowers grow
And if my life does not suffice,
Lover, let me go
Lover, let me go
Lover, let me go
Lover, let me go

I speak little of faith
You speak little of fate
We speak little of love
As we float silently above
As we float silently above

Step into my garden
See what flowers grow
And if my life does not suffice,
Lover, let me go
Lover, let me go
Lover, let me go
Lover, let me go

• Pop
• acoustic
• folk
• singer-songwriter
• Chicago