There was a world at the end of that road,
Made of red and white and gold.
You told me a story about the first time you took a photograph.
Looking through a sparkling wine glass is how I found out what you see.

We took a shortcut home because you said you knew the way.
It didn’t matter because we could see well enough where we came from.
And the sky was a hundred different shades of orange and purple and gold.
Walking across an open grass field is where I found out where you once lived.

On the side of the road is where I really got to know you.
Climbing up the hill to the crown of Europe.
Illuminated by the passing of headlights,
Walking along the cracked asphalt is where I found out what you love.

I’m not sure how we came to find ourselves alone on a road away from nowhere.
I had to take a photograph because I couldn’t believe the color of the sky.
Until we left the bottle on the table, I felt insecure.
It was then that the darkness fell and I found out who I am.