And a boy who's stuck in older times
Holding on to a shell
That you found by the riverside
Where you danced in the storm
You held his hand in yours
Hazel eyes a little green
We can run but we won't get far in our wet jeans
In my heart I write stories
When I close my my eyes I see
A silhouette in a rocking chair
But I'd rather see you there
If I could talk to the birds
That are hiding in the trees
Maybe they could show me
How to set this feeling free
I can try
To let this die
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