The phrase found its way through chapped lips:
"there won't be a better day than this."
So we set out running, and we bruised and battered our feet.
This was the time when such things were everything.

It was how the asphalt wasn't too hot if we just kept moving.
It was how the wind found its way through the pine trees;
I still swear it was whispering to me.
If I were alone then, like today,
I would have been scared.
We're only strays.