leaning on a tree trunk
thinking all the same junk
falling in and out of a dream
back and forth im swaying
im contamplating staying
laying and decaying
when I know I must leave
where do I aim when I shoot the breeze?
how do I call myself at times like these?

I need a simple kind of lovely
and the thought is just a novelty

you can spend the whole time dangling form a grape vine
standing underneath you when they cut you free
but what about when the sun leaves?
and what about those bad dreams?
who will walk you back into reality
I wish things could be like this everyday
I know that I could never live this way
it was just a simple kind of lovely and the memories will be ok

I wish things could be like this everyday
I know that i could never live this way
it was just a simple kind of lovely and the memories will be ok

was just a simple king of lovely and the memories will be ok

the memories will be ok
memories will be ok