there are places we've left behind. black hair in the wind.
on a beach i saw her face. in the blue and grey she smiled.
it was brief.
i give my lungs the air they need. they give me a gift from within.
i'm gone if you're gone. and i am always wrong.
i'm no soloist dancing on the street.
we're in a storm. but we're a team.
we're no conductors of electricity.
we're no heroes. although we yield heavy guns.
let's get the song on with new strings.
i give the harmony part away. i'll stay subtle.
this is no rehearsed piece of work.
this is turning shallows into an ocean.
soft breeze becomes a screaming force.
i will build the windmill. and we can flee once more.
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