This Is Me Smiling
Ephemera
I drive through your younger streets,
as the day takes the sunlight,
the hour and the second hand racing 'til midnight,
a thought loses all it's lines,
and lets out the colors,
to make room for others.
I drive through your younger streets,
as the day takes the sunlight,
the hour and the second hand racing 'til midnight,
a thought loses all it's lines,
and lets out the colors,
to make room for others.