it's a foggy 101 freeway. my socks are soggy, home is six more miles each way. i'm outta style like talking one on one we say, it's easier, face to face. as soon as we see her, away she blows like sand on the coast. anyways her eyes glow as if headlights on deep sea creatures, waving, making us want to meet her. taking our breath away with love left over from that day. put into a chinese box under her bed, the monsters come and go, sometimes they stay in her shadows. she gave me all her love before she wrote one last note. now it floats in a dry tanqueray rangpur bottle just off a shore glittered with similar littered glass. i didn't get it in time, can there be a simpler way to ask what's inside our eyes enzymes? i have to squint to see her due to sun shining tints outlining hints of grey and blue. quintessentially, especially since i've sinned extensively, she gives me another try in my mailbox, in a whitewash by the rusty nailed docks. i can't wait to make her house a home, lock the door behind me and take off these socks, shoes with holes in the soles, my toes are frozen cold and curled. this girls on the fools golden coast of the world washing machine whirlpool. hold your breath for bouyancy, hold your breath so the boy can see hope floats. tides are salty cause that's where she cries. hiding it inside the bobbing icy gin. throbbing sunrise oxygen, she ties it in.
Lyrics submitted by KevinCHansen