I want to take you far from the cynics in this town
and kiss you on the mouth
We’ll cut our bodies free
from the tethers of this scene
Start a brand new colony
Where everything will change
We’ll give ourselves new names
Identities erased
The sun will heat the ground
under our bare feet
In this brand new colony
Everything will change
Shuffled up on my BART ride home tonight. In times like these, when the world makes particularly little sense to me, the idea of running away from it all (but running to something, running to love), while impossible, becomes increasingly appealing.
Notes
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