Nomadic Heart keeps me searching, on the path to never despair, on a never ending treadmill of new sights and travels for tales yet untold. Mountains stretching higher than my fingertips in the rear view mirror, your hands at 10 and 2, my head on your shoulder, breathing how much I wished we never had to leave this moment.
I can't stay home, I'd much rather wander, and if you'd like to come along I'd like to let you. Summer suns setting slowly, feet on the dash, cruising comfortably with less than ten dollars to our names, yeah I'd say we're doing just fine. Learning the best pubs to go to in this small mountain town for the cheapest beers and the best dark corners to dance together in. Old city streets welcome our tired feet early this morning, as we stumble to the closest familiar sight, eyelids lowering as the clouds are lifting, heavy sighing realizing it's high time we move on again.
Insatiable curiosity, of the landscape, of what you're thinking right this moment, of how I could love you but I'll always love to run much more. Turning to go but being pulled by some incurable force to stay... your eyes. This trip is taking much too long and as my pulse slows I realize we've been home all along, I don't have to endlessly chase my passion when it sleeps next to me at night. Head on your chest, safe, but I need a bit of space to breathe. Up to open the big skylight above our makeshift bed, fussing with my hair when I hear you say baby you've never looked better.
Be my adventurer. Let me roam the globe hand held in yours, arms tucked tightly against your chest to keep from freezing. From the plains of Nebraska in the back of a stranger's pick up truck, in the very backseats of a 747 gazing out heartbroken over an ocean I'll never swim in, touching down to the humid heat and inescapable beauty of a city with high towers and grand buildings older than our country. Playing house, sitting cross legged between yours, counting the freckles across your nose and down to your chest. I'd like to stay here for a while.
Oh you're the cutest thing I've ever seen, and this life is ours to lead. Jump in the driver's seat, I'll go wherever with you, as long as I can count the stars along the way and photograph you a dozen times a day.
I can't stay home, I'd much rather wander, and if you'd like to come along I'd like to let you. Summer suns setting slowly, feet on the dash, cruising comfortably with less than ten dollars to our names, yeah I'd say we're doing just fine. Learning the best pubs to go to in this small mountain town for the cheapest beers and the best dark corners to dance together in. Old city streets welcome our tired feet early this morning, as we stumble to the closest familiar sight, eyelids lowering as the clouds are lifting, heavy sighing realizing it's high time we move on again.
Insatiable curiosity, of the landscape, of what you're thinking right this moment, of how I could love you but I'll always love to run much more. Turning to go but being pulled by some incurable force to stay... your eyes. This trip is taking much too long and as my pulse slows I realize we've been home all along, I don't have to endlessly chase my passion when it sleeps next to me at night. Head on your chest, safe, but I need a bit of space to breathe. Up to open the big skylight above our makeshift bed, fussing with my hair when I hear you say baby you've never looked better.
Be my adventurer. Let me roam the globe hand held in yours, arms tucked tightly against your chest to keep from freezing. From the plains of Nebraska in the back of a stranger's pick up truck, in the very backseats of a 747 gazing out heartbroken over an ocean I'll never swim in, touching down to the humid heat and inescapable beauty of a city with high towers and grand buildings older than our country. Playing house, sitting cross legged between yours, counting the freckles across your nose and down to your chest. I'd like to stay here for a while.
Oh you're the cutest thing I've ever seen, and this life is ours to lead. Jump in the driver's seat, I'll go wherever with you, as long as I can count the stars along the way and photograph you a dozen times a day.
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