"It's just a fascination," they said
Pressed lips to fingertips
"And if you cared about the family, don't let me hear them call your name"
He's waiting around behind "Quiet, they'll hear you"
It's raining we're driving and I'm closing my eyes and
What would they say if they knew that we were driving through a famous storm
I don't mind the view between my fingers
Where are we getting off
In the backseat, I am
Writing "He hearts Me" in the fog still on the window
"It's just a fascination," they said
Pressed lips to fingertips
"And if you cared about the family, don't let me hear them call your name"
He's waiting around behind "Quiet, they'll hear you"
It's raining we're driving and I'm closing my eyes and
What would they say if they knew that we were driving through a famous storm
I don't mind if it gets back to them before we (do)
Where are we getting off
In the backseat, a butterfly
Flaps its wings inside me, on my cheek, and in Japan.