Grey Skies from Transporter by Truly Holy

Grey skies

You can hide by the misty highway
you can hide in the plains
you can hide by the caravan back door
I’ll wait in the lane

We can make it to the edge of the outskirts
we can make it to the plains
we can sit by the caravan back door
watch the rain fall from the

Grey skies

Where is the place
where the wildlife lays down
where is the place
where there’s gold in the creek
where is the place where the birds sing out
from the tops of the trees

Something happens
when the sun hits the rooftops
something happens
when it hits the sea
something happens
when the radio’s blaring
below the roof and the rolling

Grey skies

No-one knows what lies in those sleepy eyes
they watch the hills and the skies
running over the fields and the fences
through the streetlights
and the powerlines

I grew up in the suburbs
house number 23
tyre-swing in the backyard
rose bushes and a lemon tree
I can make it
to the edge of the outskirts
I can make it to the sea
I can walk through
the streets of the suburbs
hit the road
then it’s me and my

Grey skies

Sleepy eyes, sleepy eyes

• Devotional
• Melbourne