I like this misty look carved out of a drop of rain in the morning fog. Silver plated on curbs and ship’s ropes around. Covers with a white satin curtain a summer that never came. Summer. Summer. Summer. It doesn’t sink into my shoes. It doesn’t wet my pants’ bottoms. It doesn’t collect the dust of the road into the tight knitting of the t-shirt fabric. Everything is different than previously, different than before. Enjoy the rain.
You know how we’ve grown
Love without your every time.
Well everyone needs a right time
When I see the pictures of every life and the day they die,
It’s your image burnt into my mind
And again I’d find
That it’s worth the..
Why my love has that is right our time.
Our love comes back in the middle of the night
Our love comes back in the middle of the night
Our love comes back in the middle of the night
ᴶᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴮˡᵃᵏᵉ ⁽ᴸᵃᵗᵉ ᴺᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵀᵃˡᵉˢ˒ᴼ́ˡᵃᶠᵘʳ ᴬʳᶰᵃˡᵈˢ⁾ – ᴼᵘʳ ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᴮᵃᶜᵏ
