Can’t stop thinking 'bout it
It fills me with unease
Out there by the roadside
Something’s buried
Under sycamore leaves

Wet grounds, late September
The foliage up the trees
I came upon this feeling
That someone’s lying
Covered by sycamore leaves

And I could never make it
And I could never see
I could never break out
And shake its grip on me

Sycamore leaves

And I could never make it
And I could never see
I could never break out
And shake its grip on me

Can’t stop thinking 'bout it
It fills me with unease
Out there by the roadside
Something’s buried
Under sycamore leaves

Covered by sycamore leaves
Sycamore leaves
I’m covered by
Sycamore leaves