We are sitting on a table in a bar in Baltimore,
It's the last night of December and the moon is beautiful.
And the front door pulls a draft in every time it opens wide.
And you are telling me your story from another time and life.
And the waitress brings our order
And we're tucked in mighty clothes
And I feel like we belong among the living and these ghosts.
And I know that I'm dreaming, ‘cause I memorized each part.
And the telling lies are revery and the details lie behind.
Like the folds of summer dresses, like the scent upon my wrist
Like the way you play guitar like a box of punches with his fist.
And taking all that's lost in me it's better not to say
I'm dwelling the possibility on a New Year's day.
Is it you pack sore band, stand and we own another round
And the night's just getting started or the night's just winding down.
Your stories are not clouded yet, by the end or by the chain.
They just make me feel as if I've known you all my life again.
Like the folds of summer dresses, like the scent upon my wrist
Like the way you play guitar like a box of punches with his fist.
And taking all that's lost in me it's better not to say
I'm dwelling the possibility on a New Year's day.
And this is what it looked like when we started walking home,
The night sky bleeched to silver against this city's palms.
And dreams are in our waking, I'm stressed enough to say
Buffen grace and endless flows be ours on New Year's day.
And the folds of summer dresses and the bangles on my wrists
And the way you play guitar like a box of punches with his fist.
And taking all just lost to us it's better not say
We're drowling possibilities on a New Year's day.
© 2024 Cloverlyrics.com