Travel

© 2005 Midnight Island Music

We could gather seashells in our hand
Hear the ocean sweep against the sand
Touch the palms and see a summer storm
Never far from home
 
We could wander where the light is low
Breathe the air of branches wet with snow
Trace the edge of every frozen form
Never far from home
 
Some summer in confusion
Some winter on the coast
Some come to the conclusion
That more will mean the most  
I summer in your kisses
I winter in your charms
The spring birds sing of this is
I fall into your arms
 
We could walk where endless ages run
Roman roads left ruined in the sun
Swim up hills of daffodils in bloom
Never far from home
 
We could ramble through the fallow fields
Fallen apples underneath our heels
Leave an evening staring at the moon
Never far from home
 
Some summer in confusion
Some winter on the coast
Some come to the conclusion
That more will mean the most  
I summer in your kisses
I winter in your charms
The spring birds sing of this is
I fall into your arms