Hey look, the berries are
A drownin' in the pond
And you said it used to
Be a clear river where
A friend took a bike for a swim
Two spires, another on a hill
Hid behind these trees
Would you believe another
Sunday shop has opened where
They pay for no return
Ah yes, the marks are still there
A little worn perhaps
But they still meant
The same as the day you
Cut them, oh pointed fingers
It was nice to be reminded
That I didn't believe St. Nick
‘Cause I recognized the kind hands
Of the stranger giving presents
To belong to a friend
Leavin', yes, I can't take you, no
But this time the cross upon my neck
Gives me part of you
And when we return the spires will be the same, yeah
But sadly you'll go your way and I'll go mine