Pages Turning Every Day by Lori Yamamoto

[Chorus] Sunlight is lying down on the hot street. It is too tired to stand up. The green leaves are holding their breath in the thick, slow air. I find a melody that is sticky with sweetness. My heart is a ripe fruit. I wish the summer would stop melting off its bones. [Post-Chorus] La la la… Soft like a lazy bee. La la la… Where do the lost dreams sleep? Do they take a long nap in the shade’s blue pocket? [Verse 2] I keep a shell from the beach where I did not stay. Your name is written in the sand of yesterday. The tide is a big eraser with a slow, foamy mouth. I think I hear you laugh where the dragonflies stitch the hot air together. The shadow is small and tired, but the memory… it sweats. It will not evaporate. [Pre-Chorus] Colors are all too bright. I do not know why you had to become a season. I am reading the same page by the light of a dying firefly. [Chorus] Sunlight is lying down on the hot street. It is too tired to stand up. The green leaves are holding their breath in the thick, slow air. I find a melody that is sticky with sweetness. My heart is a ripe fruit. I wish the summer would stop melting off its bones. [Post-Chorus] La la la… Just a little out of reach. La la la… Every memory is a firefly in a jar— a small, fading, warm fact. [Outro: Spoken] Lost dreams sleep… and sweat through the sheets. Okay.