Summer caught Sally singing prayers in the alley
Running frantic from the rally on the main drag
Whispering in melodies and languages unknown to me
She said that God is up there keeping tallies
When Summer dies and Sally cries
She'll open up her lilly'd eyes
And realize there's ugliness in beauty
That there's as* much of good as bad
Not every fist is iron clad
But roses called by other names aren't roses, truly
As the winter reaches up from down below to swallow us
Sally will get on her knees again
And sing about when Summer left
Of all the days she sat and wept for days that past
And days that haven't yet
Up in the sky, oh my oh my
The stars should all be fireflies
The moon is so much larger than my hand
And how is it that I am small
So very small compared to it
Still smaller and more mighty is the sand?
Oh, Sally, so inquisitive
Is there more than one life to live?
The answer doesn't come quite easily
The trees are tall and talking down
And Sally listens to the sound
As she watches fear outside her window
She'll never have the answers to the questions in her mind
But she'll remember Summer when she hears the wind blow
The lead singer of punk band Camp Cope ventures into romantic synth-pop territory, tempering slick arrangements with bare sentiment.
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