Middle of july
i don't know if that's your leg, or is it mine?
and i can't tell if it's day or night outside,
i closed the blinds.
and i feel so good inside,
when you come into my mind.
i can't wait till you come home,
and your skin will replace
i don't know, is that your eyelash or mine?
i think it's mine.
and tell me about the night we slept
when you had to leave
whether we should even try
by a burned-out streetlight
in the middle of july.