mp3
dear we near the midnight clearly
our bodies are interned
our eyes delight upon the ceiling
they watch the windmill blur
as it turns and returns
and twirls upon the contour of a curve
so close you eyes and we'll go walking
if only in our minds
and should we lay attempt at something
you know it comes out right
every time that we try
we find our trepidations do subside
daybreak is on its way
there are keep sakes in the drawers
and though our worries lay in wait
they do not hold the floor
anymore we're a blur
and we lay upon the contour of a curve
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