the idea is so foreign to me
so unaware, so pure
so *****, so clean
under the starlight which she praised
on sunny days of nostalgia and honey
she came to me the next day to say hello
but she never said good-bye

and partially it was my fault
but partially it was her's
everyone had their beautiful intimate moments
everyone I knew
they all complained and cried
and some of them said they would even die
but who am I to judge
the closest thing I ever had was far away
and now she's even farther.

when I think about going back in time
to change so many little things
I think of the sad times
the crippling times
since they've been so abundant

and maybe the idea is so foreign to me
that it's a dream I cannot remember
that it's in a place unrecorded
not written down
a town in the middle of nowhere
somewhere I need to disappear completely
somewhere I finally need to see

a few years ago I'd breathe in the sea
and the sea would breathe in me
when I believe the time has come
I will think of her and colors
caused by oil on the pavement
explode in my head

and I dream forever, and ever