Questions with answers and miracles

He has galaxies hidden in his chest

And a big sun dripping down his chin.

His worries mixed in his memories from last night.

A big mess in his brain.

Let me choose the next song, let me put your memories on a shelf and your worries in a box,

hide it somewhere you can’t find. At least for tonight.

You’re mine. You are mine.

Tell me that time I was bored of the day

And you made the sun go away.

Read me the story where you pulled a star from the sky

to feed the hedgehog we found in the backyard.

I’ll find a happier song next time, just tell me that time you made it snow on kids living in a desert. Tell me how they danced raising their little hands to the sky.

You’re no god, you're no miracle.

You just carry the galaxy in your chest.

And sunken ships, lullabies in your eyes.

Drunk nights in your hands.

Your hands.

Clasped in mine while your lips are between my legs.

I’m not sorry if I’m holding them a bit too tight.

You still have some snow on your fingertips,

And stars around your wrists.

It's no lie that I live in your galaxy.

You’re no miracle, you just happen to make me laugh.

Tell me, do trees ever sleep?

How do you write songs?

How come riches are so rich?

Tell me all of it.

I’m never bored, never bored.

Tell me how to save the world.

Tell me how to rule a kingdom.

I’ll listen. I’ll forget but I’ll listen, just talk to me.

One more cigarette, one more sip.

I’m never bored.