At the Clyde, when our conversations were flowing like wine, then we lost track of time. wishing the things being tossed our way were just rocks being skipped. But on your puddles, I slipped.
Looking back, everything was crystal clear, I knew you were going to disappear.
All I ever wanted was to drown in you, i wanted to bathe in the attention you gave me, but I was far too deep and I'm struggling to drain.
That april we should have rained; but we were in a drought by May.
Now the you I knew is being washed away.
