wish we would be closer, but we're speaking different tongues, and like a kind mirage that's been playing the desert sun, everything I wanted became nothing real at all

picturing it is one thing, but feeling it is probably unreal and ethereal
the waves crashing against the sand, seeping into the ground and becoming a single entity
awaiting the day where I get hopelessly inebriated so that I could fly to the stars and die in your arms