Our dreams are made of what we see
both blue, yellow, and slightly green
those forests and plains in which we'd love to roam
seem like dream world to us they know.
We'd cuddle under the stars one night
and think of all the things so right
but your hand would slide away from mine
and to the grass this very last time.
Your heart would beat a simple rhyme
while I'd listen to it's this last time
our bodies still touching, can't you see
no matter where you go, you are apart of me.
You drift to sleep, or so I think
as I smile at your face and begin to sink
I know your gone, though my arms are still on you
I lost to another and I'm not a fool.
-----
Kiss me this last time
I beg before you go.
Kiss me this last time
and I promise I will go home.
