The rush of water,
Cool—
Consoling
In this spiced July.
I'll drink my fill
And sweat it out—
Think of autumn
To get by.
I miss colder days and
The layers I would wear,
And of course
There's no need to sweat
When the heat
Isn't there.
The rush of water,
Cool—
Consoling
In this spiced July.
I'll drink my fill
And sweat it out—
Think of autumn
To get by.
I miss colder days and
The layers I would wear,
And of course
There's no need to sweat
When the heat
Isn't there.