Between an overload of information. And a striving for a pure dedication. I find myself looking for the exit sign. . See your pretty face in the sunshine.
If gravity let us go. We would all go flying. And I'll meet you somewhere in the milky night. Away past the satellites. . The breeze is dressed so lightly.
Between an overload of information. And a striving for a pure dedication I. Find myself looking for the exit sign. See your pretty face in the sunshine.
Gracie takes the bottles from the porch where you had left them. There are age-old drinks of wine you never shared.. Drivin' down the motorway, with all the best intentions,.
From here to there to everywhere. And back to Union Square. Where do I get some sleep?. Anywhere the sleep dust lies. It decorates your eyes. Where do I get some sleep?.