I feel like we should live
on a cliff somewhere
in Spain, Portugal,
Italy or Greece.

Live in a cave,
somewhere secluded,
a place that is ours.

You can gather the sticks,
and I will tend to the fire.

We will just write,
write,
write,
write,
write.

'Til we have no words left,
'til all the stars have new names,
and our hearts are whole again.