I do my best dreaming in hooded sweatshirts with coffee in my hand. I do my best dreaming on Sunday mornings looking for places to live in cities far away. (Or not so far away, as it has turned out. Because it has turned out. Deep breaths and a reminder, it has turned out. It will turn out again.)
Soft melodies and bold beats as always, and this time around words, words, words. This time around more certainty that no matter what. This time around less of a dream, less disbelief, less uncertainty. And there is you and you and you. And you, who has always been there. Even before and ever after. We are. Dreaming and doing. And encouraging. You and you and you. Thank you.
I do my best dreaming in hooded sweatshirts with coffee in my hand. I do my best dreaming with you sitting next to me, far or near.
This time around there is you.
