I look at pictures of you now living thegoodlife
It's not beyond me to say "I remember when we…"
But specifics, like the eroding shores of my home- town have been muddled
to bits and pieces of a kiss, a park, a cut on the palm
I guess I want to check in to know that I can still be 19
and love-sick to the point of death again
I want you to be a voice in the onyx night
When I'm drunk beyond belief and I need something, anything
On the other end of the fiber-optic cable
In that sense you could be any number of people
Saying any number of things
In that sense we are all too detached
In my head though you'd cross whatever rogue obstacle
of nature or nurture, time and space
That I dream up
I'd awake to you in a nondescript white room
You'd be holding orchids and all the cards
Ripples that could hardly be called waves would be lapping up on the
Beaches outside the window
I'd laugh out of feeling overwhelmed
You and I would go about making love and memories that we'd both forget
