It was on of those perfect nights
with paper airplane games over train tracks
with needs for photographs
of streetlights and artistic scenes in both directions
longing for places not to far away
but far enough to make us stay
here in the heat
sweat runs down our backs as we race the streets
and through unlighted parks
where it's not so much dark
but eerily dusk at 8 p.m. (we feel safe with each other)
with wishbones made of tree twigs
we make wishes like little kids
for someone to decide where to go next
as our feet feel like fire
we've been walking for hours
not uphill or downward
just simply in circles
like a trio of gypsies
it seems like we've got no place to go
and we don't
because here we are perfectly happy
enjoying each others company
we still walk around aimlessly
though our feet feel like fire
(our feet feel like fire)
and I welcome the fire tonight
it's left me feeling like a new age is started
and that I'm finally free of my cage (the bars rotted)
and as we stare at the pale in the sky (lying down in parking lots)
heels cracked pavement from elegant falls (here we no longer need to remember them)
we realize it's moments like these where your really miles away
it's like a drug for me
and though my feet feel like fire
my body has never felt freer...
