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how high
04:41
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I wake in the treeline
Hold my breath as I climb high
Brushing the branches from my face
I see a deer bound across a Tennessee grave
And of all that I can see
Of you and me
Is counting time at your mother’s piano
How high were we then?
How high were we then?
You crash in the treeline
Lose your breath as they count time
And brush the branches from your face
The deer struck down by the low Hunter’s Moon
How high were you then?
How high were you then?
What did I expect to find
Off the side of sixty-five
But to turn back time to your mother’s piano
But that’s just something I tell myself
To keep my chest from heaving
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Motes Los Angeles, California
Motes is an Ohio-born, Nashville-raised producer and songwriter working out of Los Angeles. He writes jazz-inspired rock music with a pop sensibility, exploring themes of love, loss, and myth.
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