if I could write you in a novel I'd portray you on a farm somewhere in France I could diagram the story I could see that you escape I could disguise you and drive you to the cape but I never want to tell you why all of this happened
and if I could send you letters I would sculpt my words with insights from six centuries I could talk of my philosophy watching stars out on the dock I could argue all the finer points of Kant, Rousseau and Locke
but I never want to fear anything that I say and I never want to stop you or keep you from play and I never never never never ever want to run away from my own life
one day (when there's fairer weather) one day (when you feel much better) one day soon (when it's so much clearer) one day soon none of this will matter
so if I brought you painted flowers could I take you to New Orleans for the summer I could read to you from Dickinson on her battle with herself and complain about the heat there and effects it has on health
but I'm never gonna tell you how crazy you make me I'm never gonna be what you wish you were lately and I never never never never ever hope you feel this far
one day (when there's fairer weather) one day (when you feel much better) one day soon (when it's so much clearer) one day soon none of this will matter
sleeping on the hammock and wincing as the rain's beginning writing off the whole thing pretending that I never noticed drifting in the aftermath afterwards it changes all the suffixes and subtleties binding me to latter statements said in anger said to strangers stranger things have happened
one day (when there's fairer weather) one day (when you feel much better) one day soon
but I never want to be the one you once regretted and I never want to make you or take you for granted and I never want to learn it or we might forget it and I never never never never ever want to change this
one day soon (when there's fairer weather) one day soon (when you feel much better) one day soon