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The night spreads a quilt on the back of the breeze
The moon counts the knots in the garden trees
The night knows the names that I never dare to give
And it keeps them alive just as long as I live
The windows ease shut with a click and a sigh
The day hands its keys to the plum-purple sky
The teaspoons are rinsed and put back in the drawer
While the night wipes the crumbs from the floor
I put the words I'm too shy to send on the shelf
The night reads them slow like a story to itself
They sound less like worries and more like a scene
Where the love that I carry can finally lean
The night spreads a quilt on the back of the breeze
The moon counts the knots in the garden trees
And my unspoken love is a seed in the ground
That will bloom in the morning without a sound
The night spreads a quilt on the back of the breeze
The moon counts the knots in the garden trees
The night knows the names that I never dare to give
And it keeps them alive just as long as I live
I put the words I'm too shy to send on the shelf
The night reads them slow like a story to itself
They sound less like worries and more like a scene
Where the love that I carry can finally lean
The night spreads a quilt on the back of the breeze
The moon counts the knots in the garden trees
And my unspoken love is a seed in the ground
That will bloom in the morning without a sound
The night spreads a quilt on the back of the breeze
The moon counts the knots in the garden trees
The night knows the names that I never dare to give
And it keeps them alive just as long as I live
