When dusk turned in for the Night
And shook the stars off her starry blanket
We sat on the roof of my house in the mountains
And watched them fall one by one
As we made wishes that would never come true.
Last year was the epitome of sadness
And the only thing left for me to do was
Write about it.
The way that I would never speak to you again,
The way that we would never again share more than just glances.
That you would never let me in again
And that we would never drive home past curfew
In that old, borrowed car.
Sleep is the second best thing
Only to You.
But maybe there’s more to it
Like the way the chemistry goes
During the early phases of you
Like forgetting it all and waking up to
Like the dew on leaves
And the tears from the wishes
Of last summer’s regret.