once in a while you will say "walk me home" through the cold autumn streets, and I'll be faithful to your requests, or my requests?
"they're ours" you'll say
the night lights
will be our guide
a bed of leaves can be our memories
may I have this walk? bundle up it's cold outside
a bed of leaves leaves no memories
say, aren't you tired? we've outwalked the moon, now you tell me why; "I've no other hand to hold but your hand, so don't let go"
you had something to hide that you kept leaving for tomorrow
don't hide it from me
don't hide it from me