Sitting underneath
That old oakwood tree
Trying to make sense of Los Angeles..
Even though I've never been
I heard it's the thing you need,
To do if you, wanna become an artist packing underlying integrity..
I guess I'll settle for tonight,
Talking shit with you about the first time,
We met eachother and let some cinematic romance into our everyday lives..
I asked you where the hell you'd been?
You said "obviously on my way to this heavenly moment, in which we meet"
I replied "well do you believe in desti.." you placed your index finger over my lips
And just like that we began writing each other a brand new narrative..
We eat mostly after dark
And each cigarette we spark
Is exhaled with a feeling of,
Anything is possible, as long as your love lives inside my heart
We listen to Tom Waits
And rate the all time greats
In order of who ever gets us the upper hand
Circling the same conversation, I prey to live inside, with you until we run right out of sand..
You humour my pretentiousness I see beyond your humourless attempts at drunkenly portraying a ventriloquist
Maybe I don't like to see you hiding behind anything but your sun kissed skin and those eyes that light the road of my life for eternity.
If there ever was a heaven, I'm a gambling man but I ain't betting, as the summer sun starts setting, I believe it might, have existed underneath that old oak tree, for you and me tonight.
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