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The Woodsmen

barcelona

i love your top,
your pants are decent.
heart-shaped thoughts all new and recent.
devoted like the candles praying,
all these things that im not saying.
and waiting like a quiet pony,
all the love you havent shown me.
meandering the streets like grown-ups-
you and me in barcelona.

it rained but now the streets are drying.
we cant find the church for trying.
i hear you call my name in humor.
how come we did not meet sooner?
pointing out the spanish fellas,
you just tryin to make me jealous.
meandering the streets like grown-ups-
you and me in barcelona.

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