You are the closest thing to magic. Since him. You are the closest thing to jumping a fence in the wee morning hours, never looking back. Since him. You are the closest thing to a meeting of souls, a meeting of minds and of words. Since him. You are the closest thing to dancing down the street at dawn, another hand holding mine tightly. Since him. You don't take me back there -- because I've never met you before, so you stand on your own, you don't even have to try. You won't be my poem for a while. I am not an option. But I will keep that moment close to my heart.
Frank Turner – The Way I Tend To Be
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