Riding our bicycles down on the freeway Leaving distorted cars trailing behind We move like bullets, no danger, no danger We take that for granted Crossed the bridge, left the network behind I could feel it in my heart We gage ourselves and the scenery too We push on forever and a day This is the Ice Age Feeling the trees and the wind on my face Passing along single file Might be autumn but we know its not Cynosures hiding in the air All we did was close our eyes A moment come unhinged All we did was close our eyes A world falling into shape The wind purls over a hinterland of long grass Gold, where tiny black horses play Distant mountains move like water My friend is with me, a familiar voice An unfinished memory This is the Age of Innocent Passion
cynosure, purl, danger, hinterland, gage