to every word you've ever said
when you'd be dressed to kill
on the way to see the stars held in your palm
but never let out for me to view
and replace them with that night out on your porch.
and we're killing time wishing it was each other.
And if I had a dime for every time
I felt less potent then
a piece of dust collecting on my picture
which lies face down
Turn your headlights ablast.
Let's make my first accident my last.)
I'd be rich and wishing that you won't be home soon
and then I'll sing so you know
I'm making my way across these purple mountain majesties,
torch in hand ready to burn these amber waves of distance
Intoxication never lasts.
All good things in life come to an end.
And those experiences worth reliving
are now eyes wide shut.
They're eyes wide shut.
It silently screams to me,
this unanswered question;
Was it fact or was it fiction? Was it fiction?
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