tiny brushstrokes [acoustic original]

Описание: slightly older recording of newest original song

lyrics:

Did you see the way her hair fell down
to make a border around her face?
I kissed her shoulders and she burned my mouth.
Ever since I haven't been
able to get the taste out.

Did you see the way the boys lay down
to make a play at being men?
Mother's voice became their favourite sound
when the bullet echoes wouldn't end
their ringing out.

Did you hear the thunder when she left
lightning cracks upon my floors?
I could've sworn the rain within her steps
flooded out over my shores
because she's a storm
my bones don't fear
drowning
in.

She is made up of tiny brushstrokes.
And the art she leaves is permanent.
She will scar you with her eyes closed.
But you won't mind it, no,
you'll beg for it.
In the morning when the sun goes,
you will know you made a soldier's bed
and the one that's left behind
must lie in it.

I wonder how the candles in the church
cast shadows on the ones who wept.
Did the shrapnel take pains not to hurt
those with patron saints around their necks?

I wonder if they knew the night before
that earth's rotation was their last.
I wonder if she thought they'd meet once more,
that's why she never took a second glance
to see his back before the ground did.

She is made up of tiny brushstrokes.
And the art she leaves is permanent.
She will scar you with her eyes closed.
But you won't mind it, no,
you'll beg for it.
In the morning when the sun goes,
you will know you made a soldier's bed
and the one that's left behind
must lie.

She is made up of tiny brushstrokes.
And the art she leaves is permanent.
She will scar you with her eyes closed.
But you won't mind it, no,
you'll beg for it.
In the morning when the sun goes,
you will know you made a soldier's bed
and the one that's left behind
must lie in it.

Oooh, oooh.