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Like Miles Davis, I’ve been swayed by the cool. There’s just something ’bout the summertime, there’s just something ’bout the moon.
When our boots they hit the ground, they made a high and lonesome sound.
Cause I’ve been so lonely I can’t imagine that kind of sympathy.
“And we waited for the sirens that never come. And we only write by the moon. Every word handwritten.”
“And, ‘hey, it’s alright,’ she says, ‘Once upon a time I lived a perfect night. Hey, in another life,’ she says, ‘In a dream of mine from a thousand years ago.’”
