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We were parked in your car in our neutral meeting place, the Episcopalian churchyard I had things I’d been meaning to say but in the dazzling winter sun that late I could feel them melt away And through the warm radio static I couldn’t hear my stage directions And the fog on the windshield Obscured our sad reflections I felt so desperate in your arms We were parked near some trees And the moonlight soaked the branches in ever-deepening degrees Had my hand in your hair Trying to keep my cool ‘til it became too much to bear When we cracked the windows open Well the air was just so sweet We could hear the cars ten feet away Out there on the street I felt so desperate in your arms |
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