The tree beds down deep in my soul
And I’m as icy as the North Pole
On a summer evening
It’s global warming but are you believing 
The stories they weave
And it’s cotton wool I have up my sleeve
No knife to stab you in the back
No hatred to make an attack
On what is perfect pure
You loved me but you weren’t sure
That you could trust the branch to bough
But I’ll come close if you allow
Me near your cistern heart
The one that fills before it starts
To empty out
And the earth quakes with your doubt 
As you mean it all to me
Could you be my long lost sea