The Tuning of Violins

Day light breaks And the black birds call And the market stalls Are all filling up Spilling over the streets High above Over Notting Hill I am floating still In a wooden chair With our restless dog I've been away so long I almost forgot How time and space cannot replace this feeling Of flying over things Now you're falling awake your sleepy face begins to register That I'm coming home Yeah I'm coming home to you On a Sunday only we know Where the sunlight and the wind blows Over bluebells, over Blackheath Calling your name I will float through your window Major third Or a minor seventh I'm a violin tuned a little sharp Tuned a little below Come around the bend The hallway ends The chair it dips And then it bends And it has wings for legs Now you're deep in dream The sheets and pillowcases Seem to overtake your head Well I'm at the front of our bed On a Sunday only we know Where the sunlight and the wind blows Over bluebells, over Blackheath Calling your name I will float through your window Break through the silence The gulf that's between us Take all the heartache And bullshit that builds up And we will unravel Unravel the moments And we will unravel Unravel the moments On a Sunday only we know Where the sunlight and the wind blows Over bluebells, over Blackheath Calling your name I will come to your window I'll be calling your name As I float through your window