Vodka and Clouds

Summer's coming soon,

bringing its taunting grins and gallons of gin

and ripe fruit and wardrobe tantrums and water and paralysing heat.

 

Clear liquid and music,

we'll drink and cheer and dance and prance

and visit France and buy a lance and there's a chance

that we'll forget we were ever children.

 

But there's a danger,

while looking up at the sky and wishing we could fly

that we'll forget we were ever free, filled with glee and precious to me.

 

Because it's the evening

And the clouds are red and our opportunities are dead and there are monsters in my head and bottles under my bed and...

 

Let's forget on purpose

for a while

We have to

And we can be blissfully unaware

that we'll ever be lost to each other.