By Brad Johnson
I point out Orion's belt
but you've still got your gas station sunglasses on.
You're like a dead star whose light reaches us millennia after its
It's summer and Orion's a winter constellation anyway.
You've still got your gas station sunglasses on
and haven't said a word since I picked you up.
It's summer. I know Orion's a winter constellation
but I look for it whenever the night is clear.
You haven't said a word since I picked you up.
On the porch, a candle flame leaps from its wick in the
I looked for you whenever my nights were clear
and now you're here, lifting your leg, tugging your shorts from
A candle flame on the porch leaps from its wick in the wind
and a star shoots through the sky like the lit match you toss into
before lifting your leg to tug your shorts out of your crotch
while claiming "If something's worth doing once, it's worth doing
A star shoots through the sky like the lit match you tossed into
We're both like dead stars whose light reaches earth millennia after they've
but maybe you're right. If it's worth doing once, it might be worth
So I point out Orion's belt.