Sunday, June 10, 2012

Mash Potato Skies

Waking up to a coffee and a cigarette, 
You turning on my favourite playlist. 
I swear you are the sweetest thing I've ever met. 
No Areosmith reference, pure truth in a blissful haze. 
Look at me through the sunshine of the day, 
Your eyes at half mass blow me away. 
I wish there was a proper name, 
Everything erupting all too Hallmark, taints it, makes it the same. 
You are a different kind of pretty. 
Stay around for a while, don't leave my side. 
Let's play reality, dream of mash potato skies.

No comments:

Post a Comment