Sleepwalking With You
When you hit the water,
I hardly knew.
When the sunlight changed,
through the waves, you say,
there was a song it sang.
I still say
I could see what you saw that day.
How the lights were so different,
but felt the same.
Maybe I could hear you scream,
I still have that dream,
I'm still sleepwalking,
my feet wet in the stream.
It starts at your fists,
under your clutch,
but it escapes and ends up,
at the place between your shoulders
that I never touch.
Before I left I said,
Nothing can stay.
You know the past has a way
of breaking up these days
into pieces that never fit quite the same.
But I'll hold this together
even with the edges frayed.
I could feel my fingers graze
the air your lips betray.
Like a dying flame,
screaming with smoke
until it fades
for that feeling when you're alone,
its a cloud that surrounds,
and it holds you now
because I don't.
And when I wrote,
I hoped love would save you,
I meant mine.
And I dragged my palms
through the gulf of your dreams,
just hoping your song would play for me too.
And when i wrote,
I hoped love would save you,
I meant mine.
And I dragged my palms
through the gulf of your dreams
hoping your song would play for me.
And when I wrote,
I still feel alone,
you were watching me write,
I just didn't know.