I ain't written a love song in so long
As your hair leans down your spine
If you don't mind being mine for the night or the rest of time
Let your hips and lips
And your fingertips slip against the city streets
Seeping in again
Sleeping in while my friends get high on the edge of the Westside Highway
Did you ever make it back to Byron Bay?
The day that you told me to quit drinking
And thinking that's I's gonna die before thirty
Your mom was so worried about
All those kids in the house tearing picture frames down
Our fathers were never around when we were younger
So let it go I saw you on the river's edge
Dragging on a plastic cigarette
With your swim top still wet
So let it go meeting you out on the coast
You hate the smell of real smoke
And why'd you always keep it so cold?
You're collecting shells on the Bayshore
You know I was a shell before?
Deep in the hands of another
My brother had told me to leave
But I didn't believe how evil could be some people you meet out in Queens
The way the rain came down the other day in Bryon Bay
Made me feel so alone So I went home
Scribbled some poems that I know that you'll never read
So let it go I saw you on the river's edge
Dragging on a plastic cigarette
With your swim top still wet
So let it go meeting you out on the coast
You hate the smell of real smoke
So why'd you always keep it so cold?
So let it go I saw you on the river's edge
Dragging on a plastic cigarette
With your swim top still wet
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