Ben Howard - Black Flies

Black flies on the windowsill
That we are, that we are, that we are to know
Winter stole summer's thrill
And the river's cracked and cold
See the sky is no mans land
A darkened plume to stay
Hope he needs a humble hand
Not a fox found in your place

And no man is an island
This I know
But can't you see? oh
Or maybe your were the ocean, when I was just a stone

Black flies on the windowsill
That we are, that we are, that we are to hold
Comfort came against my will
And every story must grow old
Still I'll be a traveller
A gypsy's reins to face
But the road is wearier
With that fool found in your place

And no man is an island
This I know
But can't you see? oh
Or maybe you were the ocean, when I was just a stone And no man is an island
Oh, this I know
But can't you see, oh?
But maybe you were the ocean, when I was just a stone

So here we are!
ooh..

I don't wanna beg you pardon
And I don't wanna ask you why
But if I was to go my own way
Would I have to pass you by?

I don't wanna beg your pardon
And I don't wanna ask you why
But if I was to go my own way
Would I have to pass you by?

Ooh...