Some sort of heaven
     These people, this land
Some sort of heaven
     Your hand in my hand.x

Love, loyalty, friendship
all promised in a ring.
Shimmering on your hand,
pointed inwards for me.
On one knee in Galway,
I have so much to say.
I’ll just ask, “Will you be
mine on our wedding day?”.x

Take a breath.

Smell the roses,
or whatever other flower
might be blooming
around you.

This is where
you wanted to be once,
and this is where
you’ll want to be again
one day.

Want to be here now,
surrounded by roses.x

She fights against the bitter taste in her mouth
She opens up instead of shutting down
Her blue eyes shine as she shuts them now
She’s a drink I can’t turn down

Her hair dyed red and her laugh so proud
She’s got so many stories she won’t say out loud
If she could see my mind right now,
I know she’d want to meet my mouth

Her end
my start

Her hand
my arm

Her bruises
my scars

My head
her heart

There’s no fault
in our stars.x

The finish line’s so far ahead.
I don’t even know who I’ll be when I get there.

But I’m not gonna run,
put my foot on the gas and
drive past the roses
I could be smelling.

In 20 years time,
I’ll be 38
regardless of whether I spend that time fretting
or getting a view of the sea.

I will always be restless,
always anxious to get to that perfect place
that either doesn’t exist
or is where I am now.x

It's cliche, because it's repeated.

It's repeated, because it's true.

I could never imagine a life

where love didn't equal you.



You listen when I ramble,

and you respect my views.

When I'm lost and lonely,

you hear me out and see me through.



I never feel like less with you,

yet I never feel like more.

We're equals to the core of us,

and that's what love is for:



To make us feel connected to each other,

to make us feel at home

whether we're on Clermont Dr

or whether we're in Rome.



It's cliche, because it's repeated.

It's repeated, because it's true.

You are the person who taught me love.

Love equals you.