Slow down. You’re going too fast.
I’m scared. I want this night to last.
Slow your pace. It’s not a race. I’m fine with being late.
This rain isn’t going to wait.
Hold here, this music pressed like gold.
With you, these love songs sound less old.
Sad refrains and ancient pains, seem muted shades of gray,
as Ben Folds slowly fades away.
Speed up. Skip straight to our song.
It builds as we go along.
With microphones, we’re on our own to make our bitter sweet.
Tonight, we’re love dogs in the streets.
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