Amber

Amber, your eyes
Prepare me for the trifles of old age
You’re always with me
Do you ever feel the same way?
What kind of monument to love
Dreams of love
When we drive out
Through all the old towns
You say, «The rusty old paddock bombs are paddock bombs Because the love is on
the inside of the houses»
Nothing ever happens here, but it will
Reach, Amber, you gotta reach, Amber
You gotta reach like the whale in the seaside mural
My Amber, when you’re young, you say, «It is what it is»
But when you’re big, it means something different
You see a family of silos on a ridge
A little country house where they only sing songs about the city
When I was young, I saw a horse in a stream
One day it looked at me and said
«Get a grip, dreamy, it’s the twenty-first century!»
Your days are warm like cookbook wisdom
Now try inheriting the family business