Because We Go Where We Please

because the weight of the world rests on the direction of a single car
wheeling around the dusty trails, trying before the sun comes up
we're all waiting for the moment when everyone else goes home
and we can stand around dancing silently to our own voices, humming

back when we'd play music for hours in the unfinished room of your house,
i figured i should be so lucky to have arms like yours to fall into
like the way i fall into bed after a long day, taking comfort in things like
clean sheets and plush pillows

it all reminds me of your eyes, soft and reflecting
i saw it that night in new york, while the boat glided past her lady liberty
and sailed on towards the skyline i've yearned for
little sayings of yours bounced gently along the harbor

and on the bus ride home, a day later after seeing a city
rebuilding itself, i cried while the rest of them spoke of memories made
and laws of the babe
but i saw different, it would be a never-ending pull should i ever leave

to put it lightly, i've got a heartache from a place
where the streetlights stay on and the people are walking
endlessly, and gracefully - i've got to go
but i'll always take you with me, always

always like the way we dance in my living room
and speak softly when it's already loud
it's the way we are
we are who we are

so for everyone else, i've got to give warning

because the weight of the world rests on the direction of a single car
so where are you going tonight? who are you going to see?
is it worth the world, and all of the water and streetlights?