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Patrick Wolf
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Bluebells
Lucy, remember
The smell of that fall
The fires the fungus and the rotten leaves
I fell off the wagon
Into your arms
Into this long month of Sundays
You were my husband, my wife, my heroine
Now this is our final December
Now I'm deep in a forest
Losing all thought of spring
And nothing can help me remember
And I'm going nowhere fast
A darker day has hold at last
Deep in a dream I set the compass to spin
And your love has come too late
I wave from the garden gate
Wake me up when the bluebells are ringing
Are ringing
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How can it be over
After all that we had
Now comes a river runs through the rafters
Down down down
As you leave me sleeping
Dreaming only of spring
The phone rings out
And I've no number
But I'm going nowhere fast
A darker day has hold at last
Deep in a dream I set the compass keep spinning
And your love has come too late
And I wave to the garden gate
Wake me up when the bluebells are ringing
Raining raining raining
Hoooh
Raining raining raining
Hoooh
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