Hightide Hotel
She Dreams Of Melting Rocks
I'm driving around your home town with all four windows down,I've been watching the odometer and thinking about geographyand the couple thousand miles of barren country constantly dividing you and me.Or hiding out in the basement where we used to make outAnd constantly complain about the circumstances we found ourselves inwhen we were just two kids both just too proud to admitjust how fortunate we were to have come across each other.Nothing's made sense like that made sense since.And so now it's waiting around for letters in the postAnd photos that tell tales of all your travels and of a distant coastIt includes a scoop of sand to sift through my weathered handsJust like all the time we spent and the time we took for granted.
From Letras Mania