From high over the maple tips
Air was playing with my hair
Tiny insects kissing the backs of our legs
In our flight, we took no account of time
From a roughened bench we fashioned a cloud to climb upon
Locked young dew-drenched knees, and we were gone
You gave me each soft breath
A summer night could spill
Dark windows shuttered
Were they yards or miles away?
Turning in the moon-fed cool of your backyard
credits
from Eggs Buzz At Gate,
released May 21, 2012
Lyrics by Mari Kozlowski, Music by Edwin Songsville
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