在手机上保存，获得更好体验
The porch swing creaks in the same old place.
We once knew every melody to sing.
Now our voices hang in awkward space.
The morning frost is turning into spring.
We share a roof but live on different floors.
The fridge is stocked with separate kinds of bread.
I knock on walls instead of closing doors.
The garden grows with words we left unsaid.
The porch swing creaks in the same old place.
The garden grows between us face to face.
I used to know the turnings of your mind.
That map of ours is getting hard to find.
The porch swing creaks in the same old place.
The garden grows between us face to face.
We stand so close but only touch the air.
That map of ours is more than we can bear.
We share a roof but live on different floors.
The fridge is stocked with separate kinds of bread.
I knock on walls instead of closing doors.
The garden grows with words we left unsaid.
The porch swing creaks in the same old place.
The garden grows between us face to face.
I used to know the turnings of your mind.
That map of ours is getting hard to find.
The porch swing creaks in the same old place.
The garden grows between us face to face.
We stand so close but only touch the air.
That map of ours is more than we can bear.
