You can ask him where I'm from, 
Where I've come, 
He can tell you it all, 
Between each rainfall, 
But his voice won't carry far, 
From the oaks, beside the car. 

Musings, 
Just two little things, 
In a town collapsing, 
We tell each other sweet everythings. 

You can ask him where I'm from, 
Where I've come, 
And he could tell you it all, 
Apart from each tree, growing tall, 
But his voice won't carry far, 
Inside the moon, beside the car.

Golden queen, 
Hasn't been a day, a week, 
In a heartbeat shaking, 
Silver king. 

You can ask him where I'm from, 
From where I've gone and where I've come, 
But his voice doesn't carry far from the oaks, 
With souls all up in smoke.