We're just a canvas painted in fragile lines of a fractured April, and its so bright that we're drowning happily in the softest sunlight you'll ever see. This is melody.
Calm and simple like bare feet in the cool grass. Like the way we feel the ground soften beneath us.
Days like these it seems like B.B. King is singing out my sky and if this were the blues, I don't think you could cry. This is harmony.
Delicate and sweet. Like the crushed petals of a cherry tree. This is melody. Calm and simple like parading in the tulips. Like the way we feel the ground soften beneath us. Days like these it seems like B.B.
King is singing out my sky and if this were the blues, I don't think you could cry. Nights like these I feel like dancing 'cause it's jazz weather outside. Arms up to the sky. Oh my God, to be alive.
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