I don’t dream of this, I don’t dream of me and you.
I don’t dream of you, late at night, holding me tight
no matter how much you wish me too.

If I could, I would take it all back, in the blink of an eye—not bothering with two—
And it’s not so it could be easy on me, in fact hardly the trouble,
But to make it easier for you

I want you to remember me like the rain
Always nice and welcoming at first glance
but when you’re drenched up to down
and when shivers run down your core,
you wish for nothing else
but the bitter taste of salt to leave your mouth