in the light play between the john street beeches
i thought i caught a glimpse of you.
but that couldn’t be right
and is only half true.
will I ever sleep again (and if i do will i dream of you)?
i am a mystery,
as you are to me;
but we’ve both been 23,
and therein lies the beauty.
will i ever sleep again (and if i do will i dream of you)?