Sleep the Time Traveller

One day the wind blows warm like it thinks it's summer

the next day it blows snow like June never existed

the wind blows warm like it thinks it’s summer.

The streets were split by rivers, spring insisted

that February was a ruse, done and gone,

the next day it blows snow like June never existed.

The wind blows warm like summer and plans are drawn,

the night is spent out late in empty restaurants and parking lots

like February was a ruse, done and gone.

Small talk, washed cars, new parts, avoid cops,

we’re like racehorses kept from the track for months,

the night is spent out late in empty restaurants and parking lots.

But sleep is a time traveler, so all at once

the morning wakes with gusts against the window, and again

we’re like racehorses kept from the track for months.

A lost and lonely day of June of which only we know.

One day the wind blows warm like it thinks it's summer,

the next morning wakes with gusts against the window, no longer does

the wind blow warm like it thinks it’s summer.