Like the thorn bush twines against the chain link fence Like the spider spins it's rings between the trees And the lonely sycamore bends to the breeze I am the puddles in the street waiting for your falling leaves Twine your vines around me, drop your branches in my path Linger, let me linger Hearts drawn on a dusty window pane, a love note lying in the road A car circling round a darkened street, a woman crying on the phone We are like the crickets in the spring, calling out from under stones Twine your vines around me, drop your branches in my path Linger, let me linger