How To Mend the World

A great friend on a great horse.

I need a track to feed this addiction
That makes everything blend like fact and fiction.
Stop for a second, here's my prediction.
I'd rather taste wind than feel soft, slow friction.

I need some ground to lay this dying heart,
Forget your quick fix, I need a jump start
To something forever, something apart
From it all. Oh, doll. This is a dying art.

I need to feel his rhythm, catch his beat,
Feel the cold world melt with his heat.
I know he's the only one that I'll ever meet
Who can match my heart with his pounding feet.

I need to explain all my sins away,
I take this confession almost every day,
The wind takes my breath and all I could say,
And only his power and warmth can remain.

I need to feel everything else is fake,
That the only thing real is the pair we make.
The trees could splinter, and the earth could shake.
But only with him do I truly awake.

I know when he lays down, prepared to die,
Some think he won't gallop the fields in the sky,
But here's the truth, they don't look in his eye,
Cause the angel inside can already fly.

-- Girl.