Its constant melancholy living in a city.
Your contained between faded yellow lines and blinking red lights.
I yearn for the crisp January moon that isn't drowning in faded street lights and exhaust fumes.
I miss staring out into the misty meadow damp with dew
where fawns grazed lightly and I tip toed away.
Where is the forest that I used to wander,
where I got lost on trails with my father.
Our hearts are wild,
that's why their caged.
But this heart can't be tamed...
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC
Its constant melancholy living in a city.
Your contained between faded yellow lines and blinking red lights.
I yearn for the crisp January moon that isn't drowning in faded street lights and exhaust fumes.
I miss staring out into the misty meadow damp with dew
where fawns grazed lightly and I tip toed away.
Where is the forest that I used to wander,
where I got lost on trails with my father.
Our hearts are wild,
that's why their caged.
But this heart can't be tamed...
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