Well,
I flew out to the desert,
dreams of building a new past.
Familiar was long gone
and it wasn’t coming back.
And we walked down to the mountain,
painted walls and settled down.
It’s always near a birthday
when the pictures hit the ground.
I’ll figure it out from under my bed,
because I keep it all
up in my head.
And I always go back
to the notes of gravity.
We woke up in Sigatoka.
We’d been sleeping on the floor.
Reconnected in the city
There was something about the white you wore.
Swapped addresses at the airport.
A life together on a plane,
Almost fifteen years later,
you know the love is just the same.
Ride the rails no matter where they go
and remember to write all the people you know.
If it still hurts, it means we’re alive.
If we can keep laughing,
I know we’ll survive.
this is your life chuck johnson 