Now that the summer turns to auburn leaves
We roll our bicycles down the hill
We never wondered about what came next
We never thought of our own free will

We'd sneak away to behind a row of trees
Smoke one stolen cigarette
We never got the sign that we knew what we were doing,
That brown spot on the filter tip

You run away and the memories slip away
You run away and the memories they slip away
Like a stream sliding in, into the lapping waves
Like a stream sliding in, into the lapping waves
Into the lapping waves

With the first freeze of winter
The school had left the sprinklers on
The grass became a field of icy spikes
Seen in the early light of dawn

The tule fog it curled around our hips
We looked away across the fields
At all the landscapes we imagined to be out there
And all the secrets they'd reveal

You run away and the memories slip away
You run away and the memories they slip away
Like a stream sliding in, into the lapping waves
Like a stream sliding in, into the lapping waves
Into the lapping waves

Now that the leaves have all fallen to the ground
Smell of December in the air
I'll bring you pomegranates from the tree in my front yard
We'll break them apart to share

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): Jane Thompson, Jonathan Segel, Russell Blackmar