The Shins' 'Pink Bullets'

"Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass
we fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed
when our kite lines first crossed
we tied them into knots
and to finally fly apart
we had to cut them off.


(...)

I don't look back much as a rule
and all this way before murder was cruel
but your memory is here and I'd like it to stay
warm light on a winters day .."  

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