Could I close the door behind me. And lock myself outside alone?. Could somebody please remind me. Why this bird still hasn't still flown. To a treetop on the mountainside.
I could handle your tortured heart. Even piece it together whenever you ripped it apart. But I can never be that kind of girl who absorbs that kind of suffering.
I want your number. So we can talk. I can't remember the last time... I felt so lost. You changed your address. You changed your name. You were an Indian Summer.
If God persists, persists in saying yes. I guess we'll have, we'll have to test ourselves. Maybe the Summer will come and clear our minds. And find the impulse set at the sunshine.