I walk across Storrow to the water.
I thought Iâd watch Boston wipe the sleep from itâs eyes.
And as the sun goes down over Cambridge
I look around and find that there is no one I can share this with.
Iâve got your number in my pocket
But I donât think I can call it ever.
Because I feel like Iâd start to frequent
These walks alone at the break of morning if I did.
This all starts to feel so typical
There are things that I hope and the things that I know.
When itâs you and the city at 5am
These thoughts tend to flutter and thereâs no way to stop them
Iâm just waiting for the sun to come up.
Iâm not sure what exactly happened
It seemed alright and then it vanished with those words.
I remember how your body felt
And how hours later I could still smell your skin.
Iâve got your number in my pocket
But Iâll never call it, because I donât think that I should.
I couldnât stand to start to frequent these walks alone at the break of morning
While everything sleeps.
This all starts to feel so typical
I wanted to stay but I knew I should go.
And when itâs you and the city at 5am
These thoughts tend to flutter and thereâs no way to stop them.
Iâm just waiting for the sun to come up.
