I'll fall asleep soon
and when I wake up tomorrow
I won't remember what I had for breakfast this morning
or how the aches in my feet felt
or the exact color of the grass on my old jeans
But when I wake up tomorrow
I will remember sharing breakfast with you and the sunrise the day before
and the moment you yelled "RACE YOU," right before we ran barefoot down the middle of the old country road behind your house
and I will remember the rush of the air and the sound of your laugh as we rolled down the green hill with our eyes covered
I'll fall asleep soon
and I cannot wait to wake up next to you
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
I'll fall asleep soon
and when I wake up tomorrow
I won't remember what I had for breakfast this morning
or how the aches in my feet felt
or the exact color of the grass on my old jeans
But when I wake up tomorrow
I will remember sharing breakfast with you and the sunrise the day before
and the moment you yelled "RACE YOU," right before we ran barefoot down the middle of the old country road behind your house
and I will remember the rush of the air and the sound of your laugh as we rolled down the green hill with our eyes covered
I'll fall asleep soon
and I cannot wait to wake up next to you
