Summer Daydreams

Running rampant through the streets of San Francisco,

I'm daydreaming of summer and I feel inspired to let it go.

 

My friends are talking about their dreams.

I'm laughing along and looking up at the sky.

Strangers by us are getting high off weed. 

We could join them, but we're already dazed on midnight.

 

It seems like we're young, but through closed doors we're aging.

Late night conversations about all the rage inside us.

 

Our eyes soak up the scene of Pier 39.

We have our hearts beating for a good time.

Grabbing a couple drinks here and there,

picking grains of salt from our sea-drenched hair,

And we shout at the lights that we don't care.

We don't care, we don't care... but we do.

 

It seems like we're young, but through closed doors we're aging.

Late night conversations about all the rage inside us.

Reviews

[Roland Petrov]

I like this; it has an interesting quality about it. A 1960s ambivalence. perhaps?