Rooms the Color of Days
The days of the week turn into soft colors, old memories turn into rooms, and every door is already open.
Rooms the Color of Days
The days of the week turn into soft colors, old memories turn into rooms, and every door is already open.
[Intro]
[instrumental] swirling clean guitars, long tape echo, a warm pad settling in
[Verse 1]
Monday is pale blue Tuesday, honey gold Wednesday hums in green soft in both my hands
[Refrain]
Rooms the color of days every door left wide I can wander slow all the light inside
[Verse 2]
Each old summer is a room warm boards under my feet a kitchen full of steam a voice I know, humming low
[Refrain]
Rooms the color of days every door left wide I can wander slow all the light inside
[Drift]
(ooh) (ahh) (ooh) [instrumental] the meter sways between six and four, guitars circling in their own echo, nothing building
[Verse 3]
Sunday is the widest room white curtains breathing in I lie down on the floor and the week leans in
[Final Refrain]
Rooms the color of days every door left wide I can wander slow all the light inside (ooh)
[Outro]
Rooms the color of days rooms the color of days (hmm)
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