It's four in the morning
And I can't sleep.
You're laying next to me,
Back turned,
Dreaming.

I have a taste in my mouth.
It's part you,
Part excitement,
Part me,
Part disappointment.

And it won't wash out.

I kind of want to cry,
But jump for joy
At the same time.
I guess that's growing up.

I guess that's living,
And that's learning,
And I'm not really sure of
Anything right now, except
I am sure I want your arms
To hold me tightly.

But you're dreaming.