Текст песни
[Verse 1] Inside a book with a torn blue spine I found a map from another time A pencil river, a folded square Three little marks that led somewhere [Verse 2] I traced the road past the county line Past fields that leaned in the summer shine A red house drawn with a crooked door And one small island I’d missed before [Chorus] So I followed the ink through the afternoon Under a patient, pale-white moon Not for treasure, not for fame Just to learn who had drawn my name [Verse 3] At the island’s edge sat a wooden box Wedged between two weathered rocks Inside, a note in a child’s careful hand: “Leave this here for the next one who lands.” [Bridge] I wrote one line on the back in return: “Some roads are gifts when they twist and turn.” Then I placed it down where the tide could see And carried the borrowed map with me [Chorus] So I followed the ink through the afternoon Under a patient, pale-white moon Not for treasure, not for fame Just to learn who had drawn my name [Outro] Inside a book with a torn blue spine A new blank page waits in the next design
