Golden Hour - Macseal

My skin sticks to your bed

The fan is nothing but noise, nothing but noise

I swear my sweaty hands have typed a bunch of words on my phone

But none of them make much sense

'Til I charmingly sing them out of key

To you on some random night

'til the sun dips beneath your window

And you tell me you’ll be alright

And we’ll all pretend to be okay

Where did I go wrong?

The air is getting thinner

Where do we get off?

I’ve been blessed with a level head

And my flat feet will keep me grounded in the thought I might go ahead

And my body will keep me grounded in my bed