There's no eye in the sky. Just our love. No unobstructed view. No perfect truths. Just our love. Just our love. And there's no verse. No monument of words.
Lying in a field of glass. Underneath the overpass. Mangled in the shards of a metal frame. Woken from the dream by my own name. Well I was such a wretched man.
We're not the same, dear. As we used to be. The seasons have changed. And so have we. . There was little we could say. And even less that we could do.
Squeaky swings and tall grass. The longest shadows ever cast. The water's warm and children swim. And we frolicked about in our summer skin. . I don't recall a single care.
I once knew a girl in the years of my youth. With eyes like the summer all beauty and truth. But in the morning I fled left a note and it read. Someday you will be loved.
When I was young. Lying in the grass. I felt so safe. In a warming bath. Of sunlight, of sunlight. . Vast open sky. Could do no harm. Like an embrace.
Last night I dreamt that I was you.. I was dressed in all black with dark glasses and attitude.. Such a pose I could simply not hold through days in the northern town that I had once called a home..
Meet me on the Equinox. Meet me half way. When the sun is perched at it's highest peak. In the middle of the day. . Let me give my love to you. Let me take your hand.
How I wish you could see the potential. The potential of you and me. It's like a book elegantly bound. But in a language that you can't read just yet.
Sleep, sleep with the lights on. Shutter and shades drawn. There's too many windows. Noise, cars on the freeway. Tempting a clean break. There's nowhere left to go.
It was one hundred degrees. As we sat beneath a willow tree. Whose tears didn't care,. They just hung in the air. And refused to fall, to fall-all-all-all.
You may tire of me as our December sun is setting. 'Cause I'm not who I used to be. No longer easy on the eyes. But these wrinkles masterfully disguise.
You may tire of me as our December sun is setting. 'Cause I'm not who I used to be. No longer easy on the eyes. But these wrinkles masterfully disguise.
we'll correct collegiate mistakes.. a shower of formal ideals. completely soused.. the hearts on our sleeves,. as they drowned we could hear them screaming,.