the moral of low nights

Once more this day ends up lonely,
where every past hid from us
(think past dangers, around corners)
a walk down stranded colorado roads,
everything born here is locked here
somehow, alone and waiting for cool air
to come back and dry lips (from kisses)
earn our free ride out of town for a few short hours
and back
Where each of us has always belonged, always will
Always will and good to be

2004-10-22 | 10:37 a.m.
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