And as the road winds up through a dark forest
I watch the pines rush past the window
Listening to the sax riff from « Baker Street »
Acutely aware of his warm breath beside me
And I wonder what he might be thinking about
Does he also have trouble sleeping at night
As we lay side by side, carefully not touching
And the darkness is pregnant with stillborn possibilities?
I watch the pines rush past the window
Listening to the sax riff from « Baker Street »
Acutely aware of his warm breath beside me
And I wonder what he might be thinking about
Does he also have trouble sleeping at night
As we lay side by side, carefully not touching
And the darkness is pregnant with stillborn possibilities?