The smell of a campfire is stuck to the humid air.
I inhale smoke just as thick as the smell
and when I close my eyes,
you're sitting right there with me.
We're around a campfire with good company, smiling faces and dinner on the coals.
I can smell the roast.
If only I was cycling through memories instead of dreams i'd be a bit less bitter.
oh.. what we could've done with more time.
My eyes are closed and i'm sitting in front of the home I dreamed we would build
and its burning
and i'm going down with it.