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If I look at your eyes when I talk to you, they might suck me in, and toss me between blue and green and gold, swirling me through Technicolor madness until I fall into a world where the only clouds in the dusty, faded sky are made of contrails.

I still wish I had the guts to do it.



	If I look at your eyes when I talk to you, they might suck me in, and toss me between blue and green and gold, swirling me through Technicolor madness until I fall into a world where the only clouds in the dusty, faded sky are made of contrails. I still wish I had the guts to do it.

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