Quiet Fires Rising

(mmmmm-mmm) Coffee is cold on the counter again

You trace the lines on the palm of my hand

Talking in circles, we both understand

And we don't have to hurry

No, we don't have to rush

Oh, let the world spin fast outside

We can find our own sweet time

Oh,

we are golden, we are wide

Leaves on the pavement are turning to gold

Stories we carry that never get old

Keeping us warm through the creeping-in cold

All the noise is fading away

Leaving us

with nothing left to say

Oh, let the world spin fast outside

We can find our own sweet time

Oh,

we are golden, we are wide

Our own sweet time Our own sweet time (mmmmm)