Making

I wish it all would change
Between fickle hearts and ball and chains
It's all just chasing windmills
Meanwhile treading on the tulips
Like how I never bought you flowers
I planted them in you, they just never grew

Until today, the softest of suns on your face
You and me, behind a tree off the highway to Crater Lake
Making, mmmhmm

I wish you could have it
The tenderness I've torn and split
To hold it in your hands
And fastened to your sleeve, you could
Pretend that you'd thought of me
In Seattle, or otherwise

Hold in your eyes, the countenance culled from surprise
It's strange as such, a stranger's touch alight in a plane through the sky
Making, mmhmm

I knew where you were last time
But only the loneliness moves you
To measures beyond, beyond . . .