 Under the pallid glow of a forsaken moon, I wander dim streets where lost memories bloom; In the quiet decay of a midnight commune, Your branches rise, dispelling the gloom. A silent hymn of fruit and whispered lore, Where sorrow meets solace in each scarred root— I trace the ghosts that haunt forevermore, In the sacred shadow where hope takes fruit.

Tree of Plenty

Written and produced by © Don Minolta // Minolta Records
Artist: Colby Brossler

I've been waiting out here underneath the moon.
In the forest by your house.
When you're grandma sleeps I'll sneak into your room.
No more louder than a mouse.

Window squeaks
Old floor please don't creak
tiptoes of my love for you

When the rooster says the sun is coming out.
I'll be lacing up my shoes.
Careful don't leave any prints along the ground.
As you kiss me I turn loose.

Window squeaks
Old floor please don't creak
tiptoes of my love for you

Window squeaks
Escape down old Flint Creek
Tiptoes of my love for you

Tiptoes of my love for you

Tiptoes of my love for you

Constellations

Tom Odell