It came upon me like pollen stains on a windshield:

floating and itching to die.

My red eyes mimicked the cardinal in the backyard:

lonely but ready to fly.

I shouldn’t have faltered, I shouldn’t have questioned the light

filtering through my hands.

In those cavernous neighborhoods of strangers living on top of one another,

I feel like less of a man.

And these days, they’re getting longer

And the night brings morning faster

Would you believe me if I told you I never sleep

come around sundown.

It came down to the view from within a canvas:

The colors were fading away.

Through the brushstroke mountains and sponge-dabbed clouds I followed,

looking for a place to stay.

And then I saw you there, smoothing yourself into the background,

your neck wrapped in a shawl.

I shouted, “If I can’t be painted in the same stroke as you,

I’d rather not be painted at all!”

And these days, they’re getting longer

And the night, brings morning faster

Would you believe me if I told you I never sleep,

come around sundown.

And these days, they’re getting longer

And the night, brings morning faster

I can’t sleep at all, but I’ll dream sweetly when I’m in your arms,

come around sundown.