All of her hair, it’s always been red and her lips, they’ve always been red. Her temper, her passion, has always been red. Her fists have always been made.
And I’m lost, when she lets her hair down. When our eyes meet, it feels just like coming home. Touch for touch, a new star being born,
Meet me in the night, morning comes too early, we haven’t got time to wait, we can walk through the fire, I feel like I’m forgetting parts of you my lips need to touch.
Will another year pass? How many hours are in a day? Everything burns blue when she is away…and it rains every day.
Everything in this house burns red when she is near.
-regardingsamuel.com
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