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 up 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 its grip on me