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Cycle

The Pastels
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Sticky melons juices flow Cycle paths broken glass Where did all our summers go? Boarded-up bars Dull neon stars A logging lorry lost its way Guided by your sweet allure Tender tasting wanting more Only me that knows your there Don't sit in that empty chair Where do melted icebergs go? Barbon-dating beating time Electric cars Clashes on Mars Charm me with your hostess calm Lonely ripples wash the shore Lazy on the beat and sigh Promises on tips of tongues Make a place that no one knows Trickle sands between our toe Unlearn what we think we know Shield your eyes Wishful sighs The yellow sign says follow me