I'll hold your hands, until you hold mine
Until they change to fins and slip out with the tide
I'm straining sand on your barefoot, and your broad smile lit up
With a golden shoreline
Where did I lose all of that beauty?
My judges are our dreams unfulfilled
The gleam of solace, and pleasure of another's embrace, is the gift?
Is the end of being tired?
All memory places hide heartaches, in the grasses waving round me
Where you never walk, that you'll never leave
Fading light
Of retreating torch
Of retreating torch
My heart’s rotten
My heart is a rotten strawberry