(no subject)
These colder nights don't change a thing, I'm walking
through leaves that leave their trees, return to soil,
soil that will soon freeze. And we talk on the phone,
when we're both alone, practice penmanship,
our names on walls with markers broad and thick.
Broad strokes, the lines we draw, from block to block.
And across shining seas until they meet again. I won't forget.
And don't regret a thing, because we're growing,
and each time we collide we learn, and, after all,
we'll stay close to what we know, we can be all we can be.
Across shining seas, across shining seas, into the sunrise.
Ride our bikes into the sunrise.
through leaves that leave their trees, return to soil,
soil that will soon freeze. And we talk on the phone,
when we're both alone, practice penmanship,
our names on walls with markers broad and thick.
Broad strokes, the lines we draw, from block to block.
And across shining seas until they meet again. I won't forget.
And don't regret a thing, because we're growing,
and each time we collide we learn, and, after all,
we'll stay close to what we know, we can be all we can be.
Across shining seas, across shining seas, into the sunrise.
Ride our bikes into the sunrise.