We are the kids that like to pretend there refined,
I never wear anything shorter then knee length
And you have your pants cuffed, a beautiful print,
Soon I'll wake up and realize how lovely we are, we do what we want,
We won’t stop playing in the cheap sheets,
And well take tea in the window seat you built out of the radiator and a blanket,
We’ll listen to old vinyl you found in your parents garage,
I'll whisper along, while you’re out of the room
And I will smile as you walk in (into my life again), your beautiful body on parade,
Your cuffed jeans, and big hands,
You don't have a bed, so we sleep on the kitchen floor,
Protected by tongs, spoons, and forks,
With every breath you take, I feel a pain in my chest,
You whisper under the night sky pouring in from the window,
That we are perfect, and when you say you love me you mean it,
And that anything that happens may be an accident,
But you hope it lasts, just you and me,
Together on the kitchen floor...