I met her in the summer, after the earth had shifted.
After the freezer burn had lifted from our bitter shells.
A year later she kissed me in the dark.
The soundtrack was a river flowing through Provincial park.
She's my friend. Yeah, she's my friend.
I seem to have a knack for granting wishes
but now my chest is emptier than certain promises.
We would love, if we could,
with hearts as the firewood.