coffeehouse turn.

i found this artifact from the day that we first met; the air we brought into our lungs waited quite sometime to eat us alive. but baby, it's really cold outside, and i'm not sure how much longer i can wait to hear you're home. it's still burning, hot embers saving face against bitter chills. and here i've jumped from the train, ending up in a field somewhere, lost to philosopher eyes and girls from brazil. i'm only comfortable in my mind, so let me take it with me where ever i go.