When We Become

                                  There will be laughs and also joyful twirls

Your painted toenails kicking in the sand

Lazy fish crisscrossing and the seas

Will lay their golden eggs right in their hand



When we become

When we become

When we become what we're running from



The storm clouds swallowed by the ocean sway

Will smell like watermelon and cut grass

We'll build a bonfire with whatever's dry

And leave our cold, wet bodies where they lay



When we become

When we become

When we become what we're running from