Blind Pilot White Apple
In shadow, in dark,
In cold wind, open up your heart.
'Cause time brushes your face
And one loved them - every new shape.
One loved them for what could not get left behind or washed away.
Some were seasons, some just days.
I'm bringing nothing with me I mean to save:
This faint sweetness, this wick of light,
This white apple full of bites.
A white apple full of what has slipped away from me;
Full of flesh sweet as memory;
Full of hope grown from a fallen tree;
Full of a life I can't just let myself believe.
So if I haunt you, if I do,
If my shadow leans up on you to,
No good intentions or ways I talk.
I'll just leave a light lit for you to walk.
I'll leave a light lit for you to walk.
