Meet You at the Moon
I left sooner this time (to reach you).
There was fog, late morning,
Hovering on the shoulder of the highway,
Scattering swiftly as I drove through,
Whispering, "For once, let's be guiltless."
I left sooner this time (to leave you).
There was the moon, late evening,
Hanging over the back of my shoulder.
Jet black pavement and pitch dark,
I thought I might have driven into outer space.
Maybe next time, I'll meet you at the moon.