We're talking trash again like long sedated lovers
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Baby what's become of us
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A latent memory of Southern spring and summer
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Maybe Winter in New York
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It's started raining now on all my best intentions
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I'm putting on my heavy coat
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I'll take an airplane and leave the worst unmentioned
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Blame it on a lack of time
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When I was given to easy answers
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I swept you off your feet
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But now the dancing days are gone
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You sleep alone, leave the radio on
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I'm high above it now, the clouds a pillow for me
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I consider even more
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You have the softest eyes, the ways to wash and comfort
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All the kids on Jersey Shore
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And I believe in easy answers
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Coming home for Christmas
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Minding manners all along
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I sleep alone, leave the radio on
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Yes I believe in easy answers
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Something permanent
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But only chances make a song
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We sleep alone with the radio on
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Comfort
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| David Mead |
