Shrouding the sun's dying light
Not the smoke of a forest blaze
But the older, thick, stinging haze
Of the last campfire before we say goodbye.
When we huddle close and squint our eyes
Coughing and laughing until the flames die
The sky was in smoke tonight.
There's a song stuck in my head
It's why I lie awake in bed
Reminds me to escape to Amsterdam
Such a short life, and so many plans.
When I glimpse the eyes of my brother
I wonder if I'm already my mother
What is this cycle and what do I dread?
There's a song stuck in my head.
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