From the album 'HEY GALAXY' (2018) • [ Ссылка ]
Lyrics:
You were born six years before I was. In those six years and a trillion years before that. I was floating up in space all light in bliss and orbit. No grief or hurt or bitterness. All poetry and no language. Not a single need for words like, forgiveness.
I was up there making snow angles in the stardust. When I glance down and saw you on the playground, shy as a comet, chewing on your hair. I turned to the milky way and said, I found her. Get me down there.
The first time we were face to face, it was a Sunday in New Orleans. Holy as you are. I’m pretty certain you were high as a kite and I wanted to be a key, tied to the end of that string catching all of your electricity.
When I finally got the nerve to kiss you we were in the Colorado desert beneath the same night sky you’d point to months later and say, baby we could make any of those specks of light the big dipper if we drew the lines right.
I suppose it was all that possibility that made us both so bad at actually knowing where to draw the line. Me running down the street chasing a taxi crying at the top of my lungs. I mean, the absolute rooftop of my sky scraper lungs. You de-boarding the airplane with your suitcase still on it, racing back home to find my heart a burning piano.
We were never easy. We never slept like rocks without worrying we would wake like volcanos. We could be so explosive I started thinking a good day was a slow burn.
But then we’d start talking about the ocean, and I remembered how the salt curled your hair. Or how you blushed in the kitchen when that radio show on the stereos started making you cry. I got so desperate to learn how people reached each other. I couldn’t stop running around cursing our city for the day it started burring the telephone wires undergroun,. for that crushing first fight when we spent all night trying to gather the wine back into the grape, for every promise we broke like bread in the hopes of feeding ourselves better.
The last time I watched you paint your toenails in my bed I remembered the first time I heard someone say half the stars we see in the sky are already dead. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe we were already gone before we ever met.
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