Rodney DeCroo
campfires on the moon
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All you could have been,
It doesnât matter when,
Like campfires on the moon,
Where thereâs no oxygen,
To make them bloom.
Clouds are spaceships in the sky,
Theyâll take you to the other side,
I wear my disguise.
Sometimes I really hate this town,
They build it up to tear you down,
Itâs petty like a border guard,
Tearing out the backseat of your car.
Clouds are spaceships in the sky,
Theyâll take you to the other side,
I wear my disguise.
Foghorns drone through the night,
Cathedral organs of the sea,
The deep dark sounds they make,
I like to think theyâre calling me.
So all you could have been,
It doesnât matter when,
Like campfires on the moon,
Where thereâs no oxygen,
To make them bloom.