when i turned the page
the coner bent into a perfect dog ear
as if the words knew i`d need them again
but at that time i couldn`t see it
i would read that page every day
for the next year
she sang a short tune
da, da da da da da
i came from her soft touch
and slept
we sat on a shoreline
watching wind scalp the white off the waves
sitting on a shorline
and if i could do it
i`d dog ear this page
we spoke about growning old
and filling the future`s empty stage
she sang a short tune
da, da da da da da
i came from her soft touch
and slept
when i turn the page
the corner bent into a perfect dog ear
as if the words knew i`d need them again
i hope the weather holds
but you don`t need the sun to make you shine
these island towns don`t care for city folk
but i think we can starve the city from our minds.