A Stutter
Ólafur Arnalds
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The sun is old on water
Yearling flakes keep whirling by
Carry me awry
Collapsing breaths discover
Turning hope, new-boarded highs
Receding howls dew the skies
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Closing eyes recover
Amber light in wintry bed
Can you pull me under the cold, charred sea?
Whispered words of summer
Fallen ode, a bawling bless
Serenades the water and carries me anew
In softest air, a stutter
Steers the heart away from the bane
Leaves the lasting sorrow and carries me anew