The other week I put a post up about music, and how I find it incredible that people I’ve never met, who could now be dead, can write words that capture exactly how I feel, better than I could ever have said it myself. The following lyrics feel like they were written by somebody who’s been looking inside my head for the past 6 months
I’m going back to 505,
If its a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
In my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side,
With your hands between your thighs,
Stop and wait a sec,
Oh when you look at me like that my darling,
What did you expect?
I probably still adore you with you hand around my neck,
Or I did last time I checked,
Not shy of a spark,
A knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark,
Frightened by the bite though its no harsher than the bark,
Middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start,
I’m going back to 505,
If its a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
In my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side,
With your hands between your thighs,
But I crumble completely when you cry,
It seems like once again you’ve had to greet me with goodbye,
Im always just about to go and spoil a suprise,
Take my hands off of your eyes,
Too soon,
I’m going back to 505,
If its a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
In my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side,
With your hands between your thighs and a smile.
