She was the kind of girl that I would watch putting hearts out on strangers chests.
She was good at blasphemy and I was transgressed.
I found some photos of you tucked away like the scars in your thighs.
You had that fuck the world smile and those careless hips.
You still stopped me cold, and I remember we would go car to car peering into windows, trying them on for size, sometimes it is just nice to dream, we always wanted to be runaways.
Each day with new hope and new freedom.
It is time that we finally stop running.
This is our new home.
When we carved our initials into the wall covered up by a framed photo of when we first met.
We will never be as prepared as we'd lied to be but we will still take this life by storm.
And sometimes we're fucked and it doesn't matter if we never amount to anything because we haven't enough right here.
And somedays we win because you sure look beautiful in this light, so come on, let's dream, sometimes we're fucked, and somedays we win.