When the time comes, I’ll be in your arms
We’ll drive by neighborhoods and farms
Stopping in this crazy haze
The night sky before our eyes
We look about in such a daze
Brightness falls down to the horizon and dies
The sweet smell of the summer air
Tickles our noses and lulls us to sleep
As I run my fingers through your hair
We dream of a little home on a hill so steep
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 6:17 PM UTC
When the time comes, I’ll be in your arms
We’ll drive by neighborhoods and farms
Stopping in this crazy haze
The night sky before our eyes
We look about in such a daze
Brightness falls down to the horizon and dies
The sweet smell of the summer air
Tickles our noses and lulls us to sleep
As I run my fingers through your hair
We dream of a little home on a hill so steep