They said that my hopes rose as high as the summer heat,
Your foggy reflection stared back into me,
The flannel shirt, gray scruff on your cold cheeks, torn denim
And an empty subway seat.
I’ll drink in the glassy green sea,
Lay face down on the highway to feel your pulse.
I’ll look for you amongst the blur of faceless travelers,
Trace every dusty map in your drawers to bring you back home.
I’ll look for you in the basement furnace,
Shuffle amongst the ashes and pray to God that I’ll catch fire.
I’ll catch fire with you,
Because this is the summer,
The summer without sun.

I’ll watch trucks roar down route 66,
Hitchhike across the country until you pick me up.
I’ll keep your meal warm, and your drink cool.
I’ll never forget the day you left, the day you left with my lipstick on your cheek,
The engine roared and you took off,
The earth burned in your wake,
And I caught fire with you,
Because this is the summer,
The summer without sun.

Why didn’t you take me with you?
We’ve been wanting to get away for so long,
To burn the road with our youthful dreams.
I’ll pack my things for you and wait for you to pick me up.
I’ll look for you in the sunset and let its rays blind me,
I’ll never close my eyes to its radiance, because your face will be in its glow.
I’ll catch the horizon ablaze with you,
I’ll burn everything I own to be with you again,
I’ll catch fire with you,
Because this is the summer,
The summer without sun.

As time went on, I knew I would never see you again.
I understood that no traveler will ever bear your beauty, and the highway will never pump your pulse.
These dusty maps bear no trace of your existence, and route 66 is a wasteland without you.
I’ll keep hope in the basement furnace,
Shuffle amongst the ashes and pray to God that I’ll catch fire.
I’ll catch fire with you,
Because this is the summer,
The summer without sun.