Cinnamon

Cinnamon - Ron Pope

Stale sweat and cinnamon

I guess she is frightened most of all

Loves to fly but she's scared to fall

She's got scars on the outside

Says they're the worst kind

And I don't ask

She turns the lights out and locks the door

If this is fate count me out

And never try

Please never try to hold her down

Broken home

Broken bones

She never told anyone but me

And everything seemed make believe

We both ran

You can't ever catch horizon

Guess that's why we've both been riding so damn long

She says she thinks of me as home

If this is fate count me out

And never try

Please never try to hold her down

Hands on hips and lips to lips

I don't know how much someone could take from her

Fourth of July

Watch the night sky

I'm wondering why the truth ain't so easy this time