The Tuning Of Violins

Day light breaks
And the black birds call
And the market stalls
Are all filling up
Spilling over the streets

High above
Over Notting Hill
I am floating still
In a wooden chair
With our restless dog

I've been away so long I almost forgot
How time and space cannot replace this feeling
Of flying over things
Now you're falling awake your sleepy face begins to register
That I'm coming home
Yeah I'm coming home to you

On a Sunday only we know
Where the sunlight and the wind blows
Over bluebells, over Blackheath
Calling your name
I will float through your window

Major third
Or a minor seventh
I'm a violin tuned a little sharp
Tuned a little below

Come around the bend
The hallway ends
The chair it dips
And then it bends
And it has wings for legs
Now you're deep in dream
The sheets and pillowcases
Seem to overtake your head
Well I'm at the front of our bed

On a Sunday only we know
Where the sunlight and the wind blows
Over bluebells, over Blackheath
Calling your name
I will float through your window

Break through the silence
The gulf that's between us
Take all the heartache
And bullshit that builds up
And we will unravel
Unravel the moments
And we will unravel
Unravel the moments

On a Sunday only we know
Where the sunlight and the wind blows
Over bluebells, over Blackheath
Calling your name
I will come to your window

I'll be calling your name
As I float through your window