Thumbing through her photographs and letters
You find the pressed flowers from the
Fold the corner of the very last page over
To help remind you that you saw it to the end
Slide the book back on the shelf and promise
That you'll look towards the dark
It's little things like bones
And raxeira from your favourite dusty window
The way the firefly lights it's fire
She wrote a song about it yesterday
The way that water turns to steam
She wrote a song about it yesterday
The way a cigarette smoulders
She wrote a song about it yesterday
The way your polaroid appears
She wrote a song about it yesterday