歌詞

Old paper has a kind of voice

It whispers when it turns

This page has yellowed at the edge

Like toast, like autumn leaves

It smells of attics, tea and time

And someone's rolled-up sleeves

A pencil note in margins

From hands I'll never know

Paper thin and paper strong

It carried words this far

Somebody wrote them long ago

For readers yet unborn

I love the weight, the ink, the thread

The spine's familiar crack

A book is such a patient boat

For bringing stories back

Written for a generation

That was not yet here

Paper thin and paper strong

It carried words this far

Somebody wrote them long ago

For readers yet unborn

The psalmist asked for this one thing

That what he wrote would keep

So people yet to be created

Would praise, and read, and weep

Mmm... mmm... mmm

Paper thin and paper strong

It carried words this far

Somebody wrote them long ago

For readers yet unborn

Paper thin and paper strong

It carried words this far

Somebody wrote them long ago

For readers yet unborn

Old paper has a kind of voice

And it was talking to me