She’s hiding somewhere in lost memories,
lips lost behind her hands so she won’t make a sound,
while the earth keeps turning round.
Not for a minute.
You’ve got plans.
I wish I could call her tomorrow,
say that it all turned out just fine,
but she knows every inch of my voice,
she knows when I lie,
even if I do it for the right reasons.
You wrote something really good last weekend.
People should hear it.
You were born in the city.
You were raised in the country.
Your heart never strayed from the sea,
and your eyes never strayed from the lightning in the sky,
Little girl don’t you cry,
‘cause I’m willing to lie.
everything was fine in the end.