we raise in the morning as a haunting love story.
with early fog, pulsing to erase all our worries.
all i can want is to kiss on my sheets
to the sounds of alarm clocks, a slow ringing proverb of another long week.
i could stay here all year
if all this were real.
we'd build a castle at the foot of my bed.
and buy a tin soldier to guard against what we've said.
we sleep behind the church where your parents were wed.
tonight the stars trace a one-way to heaven and we are the dead.
fireflies attempt to retrace the steps we take, hanging jealous, but free.
and with approaching revel, the candle you brought will melt to the earth...so will we.
we live to get high in the back of our trailers.
we'll think we're in love with a showgirl; a sailor
all we can feel is there's nothing better to find.
the angels were betting, honey, we'd fall out in time...
we grow up. to give up.
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