Came back and got caught right back in the trap
All those juicy things are on the board, but I can't get to any of them
Squeezing out of a corner of the cardboard house
To run along the sidewalk in the dusk dark
While the rising moon watches with ghostly eyes
The cicadas just about to burst into song
Dogs barking in the distance
You can tell it's a conversation
How we love summer
That free touch of evening air on your skin
Before the crisp white edges of the moon
Even knowing it's not flat
It lays against the blue-black sky
And now what's on the board
Doesn't seem so far away at all.
