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Riding our bicycles down on the freeway |
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Leaving distorted cars trailing behind, |
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We move like bullets! |
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No danger, no danger |
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We take that for granted. |
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Crossed the bridge, left the network behind, |
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I could feel it in my heart. |
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We gauge ourselves and the scenery too, |
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We push on forever and a day. |
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This is the Ice Age... |
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x6 |
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Feeling the trees and the wind on my face, |
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Passing along single file, |
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Might be autumn but we know it's not, |
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Cynosures hiding in the air. |
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All we did was close our eyes, |
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A moment come unhinged. |
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All we did was close our eyes, |
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A world falling into shape. |
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The wind purls over a hinterland of long grass, |
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gold, where tiny black horses play. |
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Distant mountains move like water. |
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My friend is with me, a familiar voice, |
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an unfinished memory: |
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"This is the Age of Innocent Passion." |
