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When I turned the page
The corner bent into a perfect dog-ear,
as if the words knew I'd need them again,
but at that time I couldn't see it.
I would read that page everyday for the next year.

She sang a short tune.
And I came from her soft touch and slept.

We sat on a shoreline watching wind scalp the white off the waves.
Sitting on a shoreline, and if I could do it, I'd dog-ear this page.
We spoke about growing old and filling the future's empty stage.

She sang a short tune.
And I came from her soft touch and slept.

When I turned the page
The corner bent into a perfect dog-ear,
as if the words knew I'd need them again

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I hope the weather holds,
but you don't need the sun to make you shine.
These island towns don't care for city folk,
but I think we can starve the city from our minds.

I know we won't want for much,
It's just you and me and a bed and a shoreline.

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