I went down among the dust and pollen

To the old stone fountain in the morning after dawn

Underneath were all these pennies fallen from the hands of the children

They were there and then were gone

And I wonder what became of them

What became of them

Sunlight over me no matter what I do

Apples in the summer are golden sweet

Everyday a passing complete

I’m not one to ever pray for mercy

Or to wish on pennies in the fountain or the shrine

But that day you know I left my money

And I thought of you only

All that copper glowing fine

And I wonder what became of you

What became of you 

Sunlight over me no matter what I do

Apples in the summer are golden sweet

Everyday a passing complete

Apples in the summer are golden sweet

Everyday a passing complete

In the morning waking up to terrible sunlight

All diffuse like skin abuse the sun is half its size

When you talk you hardly even look in my eyes

In the morning, in the morning

In the doorway holding every letter that I wrote 

In the driveway pulling away putting on your coat

In the ocean washing off my name from your throat

In the morning, in the morning

Green apples hang from my tree

They belong only to me

Green apples hang from my green apple tree

They belong only to, only to me

And if I just stay a while here staring at the sea

And the waves break ever closer, ever near to me

I will lay down in the sand and let the ocean leave

Carry me to Innisfree like pollen on the breeze 

I have a sunken love for this song, especially the last verse.  It begins quietly, Robin Pecknold’s vocals whispering a morning scene that drifts across your memory.  The melody is a lost love, tugging at the sleeve of your heart.  Sunlight over me no matter what I do, he cries, hopeless.  Then it turns in a soft crash, a wave breaking on the shore.  He is lost in a memory. Carry me to Innisfree like pollen on the breeze.  (The Shrine/An Argument from Helplessness Blues)

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