In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
Roll his body.
Give him eyes.
Make him smile for me,
Give him life.
My hand is bleeding, I run back inside.
I turn off the light,
Switch on a starry night.
My window flies open.
My bedroom fills with falling snow,
Should be a dream but I'm not sleepy.
I see his snowy white face but I'm not afraid.
He lies down beside me.
So cold next to me.
I can feel him melting in my hand.
Melting, in my hand.
He won't speak to me.
His crooked mouth is full of dead leaves.
Full of dead leaves, bits of twisted branches and frozen garden,
crushed and stolen grasses from slumbering lawn.
He is dissolving, dissolving before me and dawn will come soon.
What kind of spirit is this?
Our one and only tryst.
His breath all misty,
And when I kiss his ice-cream lips
And his creamy skin,
His snowy white arms surround me.
So cold next to me.
I can feel him melting in my hand.
Melting, melting, in my hand.
Sunday morning.
I can't find him.
The sheets are soaking
And on my pillow:
Dead leaves, bits of twisted branches and frozen garden,
crushed and stolen grasses from slumbering lawn.
I can't find him - Misty
Oh please can you help me?
He must be somewhere.
Open window closing,
Oh but wait, it's still snowing.
If you're out there,
I'm coming out on the ledge.
I'm going out on the ledge.
Give him eyes.
Make him smile for me,
Give him life.
My hand is bleeding, I run back inside.
I turn off the light,
Switch on a starry night.
My window flies open.
My bedroom fills with falling snow,
Should be a dream but I'm not sleepy.
I see his snowy white face but I'm not afraid.
He lies down beside me.
So cold next to me.
I can feel him melting in my hand.
Melting, in my hand.
He won't speak to me.
His crooked mouth is full of dead leaves.
Full of dead leaves, bits of twisted branches and frozen garden,
crushed and stolen grasses from slumbering lawn.
He is dissolving, dissolving before me and dawn will come soon.
What kind of spirit is this?
Our one and only tryst.
His breath all misty,
And when I kiss his ice-cream lips
And his creamy skin,
His snowy white arms surround me.
So cold next to me.
I can feel him melting in my hand.
Melting, melting, in my hand.
Sunday morning.
I can't find him.
The sheets are soaking
And on my pillow:
Dead leaves, bits of twisted branches and frozen garden,
crushed and stolen grasses from slumbering lawn.
I can't find him - Misty
Oh please can you help me?
He must be somewhere.
Open window closing,
Oh but wait, it's still snowing.
If you're out there,
I'm coming out on the ledge.
I'm going out on the ledge.
Lyrics submitted by stentorian
Misty Lyrics as written by Kate Bush
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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