“Come on home for the Summer Festival!”
That one line of text
Written on a summer greeting card
Was all it took to convince me.
By the rocks just beyond the breakwater,
We kissed, swimming with our clothes on.
Our jeans were wet, the lighthouse red,
Its light glistening upon the waves.
A real summer is here! Life feels so blindingly bright.
A real summer is here! You’re here, no longer just a friend.
When I let my shoulder-length hair down,
Don’t you dare laugh at my curls!
You returned the Madonna record I’d lent you,
But you’d put Beethoven inside instead.
Next summer, and the one after that,
I don’t ever, ever want to let go!
Once I stuff my cheeks with grapes, standing barefoot,
I remember all the dreams I’d risked forgetting.
When the evening rain passes, this city glistens.
When the evening rain passes, you’re here, in a plain white T-shirt.
A real summer is here! Life feels so blindingly bright.
A real summer is here! You’re here, with a determined look in your eyes.
Next summer, and the one after that,
I don’t ever, ever want to let go!
The hem of my yukata has gotten shorter.
I can hear the distant sound of fireworks.
When the evening rain passes, this city glistens.
When the evening rain passes, you’re here in a plain white T-shirt.
A real summer is here! Life feels so blindingly bright.
A real summer is here! You’re here, no longer just a friend.