You follow the footsteps,
Echoes leading down a hall
To a room, there's music playing,
Tiny bells with moving parts.
Here the shadows make things ugly,
An effect quite undesirable,
And the gold and yellow daylight
Grows like ivy across the wall.
And it bounces off of the painted porcelain,
A tiny dancing doll.
Her body spins as she pirouettes,
Again the world suddenly seems small.
On an off-white, subtle morning,
You stretch your legs in the front seat,
And the road has made a vacuum
Where our voices used to be.
And you lay your head onto my shoulder,
Pour like water over me.
So if I just exist for the next ten minutes of this drive that would be fine.
And all these trees that line this curb would be rejoicing and alive.
Soon all the joy that pours from everything makes fountains of your eyes,
Because you finally understand the movement of a hand waving goodbye.

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