


Her scent breathed in,
Is dirt and leaves and cinnamon,
Dried lake water on summer skin…





So I cry into this cold microphone,
“When Far as the Sky”
A poor substitute for your ears…





The Official Natchet Taylor Website
Texas to Barcelona
Her scent breathed in,
Is dirt and leaves and cinnamon,
Dried lake water on summer skin…
So I cry into this cold microphone,
“When Far as the Sky”
A poor substitute for your ears…