Matt Berry
The Small Hours
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 light that 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