move it to the exits
You don’t have to go home but you can’t…stay…here…
Ten years ago this summer. We drove around in the warm and the sun with our hair up and our windows down and sang the words and thought “This is it. This is us.”
It was our anthem. Our summer song. To dream to and believe in. Real. Absolute.
We saw beyond the fear we didn’t know was there and saw ourselves. Somehow.
Just like Madagascar and Jasmine always reminds me of him. The places I’ll be from…always reminds me of you.