Was a time
A new day would
Come to pass as
An empty canvas
Until your fingers met mine
And your hands were shades enough
And your eyes did tell
Of the fires to come.
And I said,
Spin
A story of spring.
Wink
And clutch
These tomorrows
To come.
Oh let's run
Through empty fields,
Little hurricanes
Giant swamps
With you singing
All the while
And smile
When strangers
Pass us by.
Our maps are not the same
And isn't everyday
Just another
Empty canvas, but
I'll go where the colours are
With you.
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