i wonder how much of what we call love is really only familiarity.

my dreams run together in a strangely themed stageshow
every night a familiar face becomes foreign

we were rowing & rowing & rowing
& we were finally getting somewhere sparkling
& the wind picked up & blew our coats up into our faces
so it was hard to see
but we knew we had to keep going
so we did & we do
& i know you are still next to me in this boat
& there isnt that much else i can say with such certainty