I want to write poetry on every inch of the world
and I don't care if the ocean washes it out of the sand
Or if it melts from the snow and trickles down into the streets
I don't care if the rain smears it all over the pavement
Or if the paper is folded so many times
it can hardly be read
I want to write poetry on every inch of the world

And I want to laugh
Even when I'm all alone,
with no one to hear me
Even in the pit at a packed show,
where the music is sure to hide it
I want to laugh so lightly in your arms,
you can't make out the sound
I just want to laugh

And I want to cry
With my car parked
In the back of an abandoned parking lot,
Six o'clock on a Saturday morning
Dim shades of light swallowing
the stars and the heat on high
I want to cry because
you're here with me
And I want to cry because
there's so much to be seen
in such a short life
But we still stop to
look into each other's eyes
Over and over and over again
And if that isn't beautiful,
I'm not sure what is