Texty: Hush Sound. Hurricane.

Send out the morning birds
To sing of the damage
Now that the calm's returned
I know I can't manage

You're standing in my doorway
Though he's asleep in my bed
The steady murmur
Always in my head

You're the finest thing that I've done
The hurricane I'll never outrun
I could wait around for the dust to still
But I don't believe that it ever will

And since the roof fell in
I'll lean on what matters
Caught in the slightest wind
Everything else unravels

You're standing in my doorway
Seven cities ago
The days are racing
But you come back too slow

You're the finest thing that I've done
The hurricane I'll never outrun
I could wait around for the dust to still
But I don't believe that it ever will

You're the finest thing that I've done
The hurricane I'll never outrun
I could wait around for the dust to still
But I don't believe that it ever will
But I don't believe that it ever will