My eye lids are made of lead
As I sort through our memories in bed.
No more dancing down at the lake
Firewood cracking or hissing snakes.
The smell of rain still fresh on the tress
mosquitoes waltzing with the bees.
I remember the locks of your hair
Sliding over your shoulders so bare.
I was in love with the way that it felt
To watch you so in love with yourself.