In my head, I found you there,
Running around and following me,
But you don't, in there.
But I find that I have no more than I ever wanted to,
So maybe Thomas Jefferson wasn't born in your backyard,
Like you have said.
And maybe I'm just the horizon you run to,
When she has left you.
Then you are here in my head, and,
Running around and calling me.
Come back, I'll show you the roses that brush off the snow,
And open their petals again and again.
You know that apple green ice cream can melt in your hands,
I can't, so what?
I have your hand up the feild, and even forgot one time it was,
And even Thomas Jefferson wasn't born in your backyard,
Like you have said.
And maybe I'm just the horizon you run to,
When she has left you.
And me here, alone on the floor,
You're counting my feathers as the bells toll.
You see the bow and the belt,
And the girl from the South,
Our favorites are flying, you know them all well.
Spring brings fresh little puddles that makes it all clear,
Makes it all...
Do you know, hey,
Do you know what this is doing to me?
Here,
Here,
Here,
Here in my head.

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