The Small Hours - Matt Berry

It’s the hours in between that I have doubts

It’s the mist in the trees when the fear mounts

It’s the edge of the dawn when I feel low

It’s the grey like the pools through the window

All combined with the strength of being alone

It’s the film that goes 'round in slow motion

It’s the sound from the air of the ocean

It’s the hours in between that I have doubts

It’s the mist in the trees when the fear mounts

All combined with the strength of being alone