Take my hand and take me away.
Show me thing the things I never will truly see.
I want to see the way you blink, the way you breathe, and the way you fix your hair after the wind gently messes with it.
As my presence gently messes with your mind.
Sometimes I wonder if passion is real,
Or if we're all pretending to be obsessed with activities that don't even matter.
Maybe in the end we all die miserable.
I want to know where the sun is.
I want to know how you see me.
I wish to see the way the stars glisten in the fields in the middle of the country.
I just want to know if the sun sets the same way that it does here.
You have no ocean;
How do you breathe?