Sometimes, the girl is here with her indigo eyes, and her brand new gear. She won't stay for long, and she has to walk straight home. Patience, time comes, she says: "kiss me but don't you tell" this is over, as soon as this fire burns through.
She's on the ocean, he's in the sand. She's stuck in motion, he is sliding gently off her hand.
Springtime, and turnoil, she pours white wine, and gets herself lost. She falls over, and disappears into the meadows. Wayward, and highstrung she is, lovesick, and ever so strong, then it's over, like none of it ever was real.
She's on the ocean, he's in the sand. She's stuck in motion, he is sliding gently off her hand.