When We

Lyrics

Hey.
Do you remember?
Sometimes I sit here and I just... I remember.

That summer, 1978.
The smell of cut grass and warm grape Kool-Aid.
We took your mother's laundry pins and the old plaid blanket.
Stretched it between the patio chairs.
Made a roof against the afternoon sun.
And we crawled in, both of us, into that little space we made.
It got so dark and quiet in there.
We stayed 'til your dad called us in for dinner.

And oh, do you remember when we...
Just stayed like that for hours.
The whole world was just that dusty fabric over our heads.
Nothing else mattered back then, did it?
When we...
Yeah. I remember.

And that other time, with the empty Mason jar.
The sun went down, the streetlights hadn't come on yet.
That magic hour.
We ran barefoot through the yard, collecting tiny lights.
One by one, we put them inside.
Held the jar between us, our own private constellation.
Our hands were glowing in the dark.
We made a promise we'd let them all go before morning came.
And we did.

And oh, do you remember when we...
Just stayed like that for hours.
The whole world was just that little galaxy in our hands.
Nothing else mattered back then, did it?
When we...
Yeah. I remember.

They were just little games, I guess.
Blankets and fireflies.
The secret handshake with the crooked pinkies.
The chalk lines on the pavement that only we understood the rules for.
Nobody else knows about that stuff.
Not really. Not the way we do.

And oh, I live for when we...
Can remember how it felt for hours.
When the world was just that secret language between us.
Nothing else mattered back then, did it?
When we...
Yeah.

That rusty red wagon.
The squeaky wheel.
Do you remember that?
When we...