We have eighty years in a good life.
The moments will pass just the same,
Whether I'm traveling this road
Or warm and encircled in your arms.
Either way, I'm watching the sun turn
Into a stained glass window
As it slowly fades to night.
I'm looking at the constellations
Sprinkling across the sky
And the city lights distantly sweeping
The plains in glitter.
I'm miles away,
But you're on my mind.