at 8 am i am thinking of you
i’m looking at my hands dance across the keyboard remembering how i reached out and touched your face in the dark, and my hands danced in a similar way, touching your lips because i need to remember them exactly as they are, for when i'm riding a train across the english countryside, or when i’m moved back in with my parents and i can’t sleep at night
or when i’m doing laundry, you know, those mundane things that would be a lot more beautiful
if i could just reach out and touch your lips, your face
and two thousand miles can’t do much about that, now can they?
so i drive 20 minutes each direction thinking i’m 20 minutes closer
or further away than when i woke up today.
i don’t think you think of distance the way i do
but distance and your lips are the most beautiful thing i have right now
so i’ll fancy them all i want.
i’ll fancy them all i want.