wandering dreamers

they're young, but old enough to know that this world is not made for them. so they make their own world; spinning idioms and beauty into their words and songs, tunes springing forth from pursed lips and mouths made for smiling, and people stop to listen. soft and honest, acoustic, their songs are like sunshine, and their lyrics speak of goddesses, dreams and starlight. slowly but surely, they move across the nations, their path steady and clear in their minds. for they seek italian fields filled with sunflowers and ladybugs - they've dreamed of it since they were young and new to loving each other. but now they've had years of practice and so they sing to each other as they walk, little gentle tunes of affection and ethereal worship, to the land and to one another.

"all that glitters is not gold," she sings, "but i see the flecks in your eyes and know you are precious to me, darling."

"all road lead to rome, and i'll be sure to meet you under its marble pillars and holy dreams."

"we had wings made of fire and we were teaching the earth how to love-"

she smiles and continues the line, "maybe it was a memory."

every tide has its ebb, but darling, i'll just flow right back into you.

every cloud has a silver lining, you traced it with your stolen moonlight just for me.