There was no season for your bloom. Red rose you rose up to a desert moon and pretty soon you made your way to town. My dreams, they shined right through your face. Your hair would blow, but it would blow at a slower pace. Slower than the breeze would.

But I guess you blew away with the wind that winter. And I miss the way you laughed in the cold. Like a firefly, your hair would touch the sun then shimmer. Mamma told me love would come.
But We Were Too Young.

Now I’m nothing but a lost West Texas storm. A coin outside, on the ground by the grocery store; tail up, I’ve got no kind of luck to give. And you were the way to make things right. The settle of the wind on a long hot summer night. You were the one for me.

But I guess you blew away with the wind that winter. And I miss the way you laughed in the cold. Like a firefly, your hair would touch the sun then shimmer. Mamma told me love would come.
But We Were Too Young.

I can still taste the smoke on your lips that winter. And I pray to God you’re laughing in the cold. There’s still fireflies, but they’re the only thing around here that shimmers. Mamma told me love would come.
You chase your dreams. I’ll curse the sun.
You chase your dreams. I’ll curse the sun.