It's starting to hurt
Everytime I try to leave.
My smile is the melody above my heart beat; your laugh, the harmonic progression. I can see us in a room filled with orchids, where the walls are painted by the golden sunlight spilling in through tall windows with nothing to lose.
It's an itch I can't seem to scratch, this yearning for golden oceans of wheat stretching out beneath towering rocky majesties. But every time I pack my bags, I seem to linger in the doorway until I am swept off by the ocean breeze.
Yes, this harbour town is a habit I just can't seem to shake.
But honey, how sweet life could be with plenty of money and you,
so open your heart and let the sky in.