Текст песни
[Куплет 1] At the fairground, just past the old stone mill, I leaned my canvases against the rail. A girl in a green coat stopped beside them, Said, “you caught the color of the trail.” I’d spent all winter naming what i wanted, Then spring came spilling over every hill. One brushstroke of yellow on the paper, And i found a little nerve to stand there still. [Предприпев] I used to ask the hills for permission, Now i take my time and let them speak. [Припев] I’m learning my own colors, one by one, Clover green and the blue after the sun. Every field has something i can keep, Every bright thing wakes a part of me. Here i am, with my name beneath the frame, Not the girl who came here just to hide. I’m learning my own colors in the spring, And i like the way they look in mine. [Куплет 2] A boy with berry stains along his fingers Picked the little painting of the creek. He said it felt like finding your way homeward, Though he’d never seen that place, he’d seen the same. I told him how the water changed at daybreak, How the reeds went gold before the birds took flight. He smiled and carried off my painted morning; I watched it leave and felt my shoulders light. [Предприпев] I used to wait until i felt certain, Now i start before the edges meet. [Припев] I’m learning my own colors, one by one, Clover green and the blue after the sun. Every field has something i can keep, Every bright thing wakes a part of me. Here i am, with my name beneath the frame, Not the girl who came here just to hide. I’m learning my own colors in the spring, And i like the way they look in mine. [Бридж] When the last light settles on the ridgeline, I pack the brushes, leave the easel bare. The hills don’t need to tell me who i ought to be; They gave me shades enough to find her there. [Final chorus] I’m learning my own colors, one by one, Clover green and the blue after the sun. Every field has something i can keep, Every bright thing wakes a part of me. Here i am, with my name beneath the frame, And the next blank page is mine to try. I’m learning my own colors in the spring, And i like the way they look in mine. [Аутро] Clover green, the blue after the sun, I like the way they look in mine.
