A-ha - Sycamore Leaves

Can't stop thinking 'bout it

It fills me with unease

Out there by the roadside something's buried

Under sycamore leaves
Wet grounds, late September

The foliage of the trees

I came upon this feeling that someone's lying

Covered by sycamore leaves
And I could never face it

And take a look and see

And I could never break out

And shake it's grip on me