Another, for her
When the stars come out to play
My tired mind wanders to her
I wonder if she thinks of me
When the house is quiet
Does the moon look the same, down there on the coast?
Do the craters form your freckles like I see them here?
Maybe she weeps exactly when I do
But I wonder if she feels this helpless.
Or maybe the smoke clouds her thinking
And I'm merely background static in her head