| Fireflies |
|---|
| Freedom was a homely Chevy old and gray |
| It was slow and steady |
| We were young |
| And troubles drifted far |
| They burned into the sun |
| Just like we were young, the best was saved for now |
| And sparks that flew like fireflies, they still light the path somehow |
| They still light the paths somehow |
| Summer was a desert sunset’s crimson fade |
| It was dry and heavy |
| Beauty was the smell of distant rain, our spirits lifted high. |
