squandered away a year
while enveloped in your inner ear.
trying not to look like a tourist,
sure of the pureness.
spent my midnights in bars,
thinking of yours and mine, ours.
I dream of hitchhiking, running from cops,
Kissing strangers and painting pictures on mountaintops.
Town's too small; there's too much to see.
Gotta cross the world before it crosses me
Kissing strangers and painting pictures on mountaintops.
Town's too small; there's too much to see.
Gotta cross the world before it crosses me
your chest may be skinny, but there’s room on it for my head. that’s enough.
