|
I remember the way you felt |
|
Your bathing suit was still wet |
|
When you got cold you put my sweatshirt on |
|
And I never got it back. |
|
The sky looked like a watercolor wash |
|
a hot-pink-orange sunset. |
|
And maybe I should have told you how I felt |
|
but I never thought you would believe it. |
|
I figure it is too late now, and |
|
it's sad to think about. |
|
I remember the way you kissed |
|
It was warm like fresh thunder fuzz. |
|
We layed our sleeping bags side-by-side |
|
In whatever town that was. |
|
The sky was soft in pale pastels |
|
Right before the sun came up. |
|
And I could call out your name |
|
but the sound would never reach you |
|
Or I could call you on the phone |
|
and have nothing to say. |
|
I remember the way you laughed |
|
but I try not to think about that. |
|
I remember the night you called and said |
|
you you were tired of being sad |
|
well so was I. |
|
Most nights just look like smeared charcoal |
|
all in shades of grey and black. |
|
And I could call out your name |
|
but the sound would never reach you |
|
Or I could call you on the phone |
|
and have nothing to say. |
