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I lean on the sill as the evening grows,
The moon climbs over the garden rows.
I zip my jacket against the chill,
And think of you when the world is still.
The breeze brings a scent from the garden vine,
It curls around the porch and starts to twine,
I trace your name in the dust of the sill,
And the hush settles down from the hill.
Night climbs over the sill like a slow blue tide,
It wraps the room in a scent from outside.
And every thought of you settles by my side,
I wish you were close, so I could confide.
Night climbs over the sill like a slow blue tide,
It wraps the room in a scent from outside.
And I whisper your name like a little prayer,
Hoping the breeze will meet you somewhere.
The breeze brings a scent from the garden vine,
It curls around the porch and starts to twine,
I trace your name in the dust of the sill,
And the hush settles down from the hill.
Night climbs over the sill like a slow blue tide,
It wraps the room in a scent from outside.
And every thought of you settles by my side,
I wish you were close, so I could confide.
Night climbs over the sill like a slow blue tide,
It wraps the room in a scent from outside.
And I whisper your name like a little prayer,
Hoping the breeze will meet you somewhere.
