Drift
The moon rises until no longer
The air picks up the sand, for others
To breathe the fresh air
The stars come out one by one, for those
Who wish to gaze and admire
I lay my head down
I let go of my thoughts
The air strums the guitar
Drift
The moon rises until no longer
The air picks up the sand, for others
To breathe the fresh air
The stars come out one by one, for those
Who wish to gaze and admire
I lay my head down
I let go of my thoughts
The air strums the guitar