I look at pictures of you now living thegoodlife It's not beyond me to say "I remember when we…" But specifics, like the eroding shores of my home- town have been muddled to bits and pieces of a kiss, a park, a cut on the palm
I guess I want to check in to know that I can still be 19 and love-sick to the point of death again
I want you to be a voice in the onyx night When I'm drunk beyond belief and I need something, anything On the other end of the fiber-optic cable In that sense you could be any number of people Saying any number of things In that sense we are all too detached
In my head though you'd cross whatever rogue obstacle of nature or nurture, time and space That I dream up I'd awake to you in a nondescript white room You'd be holding orchids and all the cards Ripples that could hardly be called waves would be lapping up on the Beaches outside the window I'd laugh out of feeling overwhelmed You and I would go about making love and memories that we'd both forget