My pretty cloud in the sky
I'm watching you from afar
Sometimes you float up and grace me with sun
And sometimes you come very close
And multiply yourself
Heavy and thick raining sorrow on me
Still I am blissful
In whatever you give me
I lean on the mystery
Of who you are
Still I am blissful
In whatever you show me
A real curiosity of who you are
Sensitive to temperature
Sensitive to moisture
Sensitive to the winds that always come
And there are days where you spread yourself
So thin across the atmosphere
That I can't see you
Anymore
Still I am blissful
In whatever you give me
I lean on the mystery
Of who you are
Still I am blissful
In whatever you show me
A real curiosity of who you are
[Antoine's voice on phone message:]
"Hey I'm so sorry you feel sad. I wanted to tell you that I love your sensitivity and I was so glad you called me this morning. And for the messages that you sent me yesterday that I woke up with. I saw when we were calling that your face did change. I'm so sorry, I love you. Even if I go to Paris, you'll just have to come with me..."
Still I am blissful
In whatever you give me
I lean on the mystery
Of who you are
Still I am blissful
In whatever you show me
A real curiosity of who you are