She found the scrap of paper, crinkled between the pages of her sketchbook. The folds and creases were seemingly endless until she finally reached the meaning. Nothing has ever rang more true and she desperately needed to remember this feeling. "And I am content to walk a little slower because there is nowhere that I really need to be. But these are days we dream about when the sunlight paints us gold. And this apartment could not be prettier as when we danced up there alone. This t.v. is old, the color's fucked. Do you see the difference in the shades? But the green is still close to green, my love. And I believe we are the same. And we'll stay like this, all gold and green." The lyrics comforted her heart and put her mind at ease. Everything's fine, baby girl. Stop worrying, and live.
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