May Holiday
Rose Elinor Dougall
Underneath the heat of the heavy grey sky
I thought about last night
I thought about last night
Wind danced your hair over and away from your eyes
We were all dressed to the nines
We were all dressed to the nines
And I wonder what we will make of these days of ours
In the future, what we will make of these days of ours
As we rode through the streets at dawn
My hand was in yours
My hand was in yours
Wretched and misty
Who knows where this leads?
Where all of this may lead?
And I wonder what we will make of these days of ours
In the future, what we will make of these days of ours
These days of ours
These days of ours
These days of ours
These days of ours