A mid July sun
Beating down on your ink covered arms
An emerald blue
Shining through as the canyon did too
So true, and I felt it with you
So true, I think you felt it too
A flower guide in your hand
Pausing every so often, examining the land
Every nook, every bend
Such a delicate man
Every nook, every bend
Such a curious and delicate man
Driving through North Alabama
Breathing in pine, in a golden light
So intertwined with a subtle sigh
Wrapped in my mind and knowing why
When you call me darling
When you say my sweetheart
When you whisper good morning
I hear the sweetest song