(every time is) summertime

i'm sold on the middle of summer
and the branches of you and me
the smoky fog, the moonlit dawn
cut a steady pace to walk along
they said we quit too early
that there were still kids to be had
a streetlight flickers out
you hold my hand, and i
listen closely for the
sound of a curtain cue
(never too late to go onstage)
may i have this dance? you ask
i toss my glass slipper and leave. my feet ache
(and i made it up to you later anyway)
switch the radio on
and drive each other out
of our minds
golden success, whispering lips
i can almost see it, that apple,
bitten.

ready to go? it's you i'll love