Counterfeit

You wore the afternoon like borrowed clothes A little loose where certainty should go The satellites were drawing crooked rings Around the ordinary shape of things And you said, maybe this is all we get A little awe, a little counterfeit So hold the thought before it disappears We’ve been getting good at losing years The future had a diagram to sell A perfect little heaven drawn too well But every arrow pointed somewhere strange As if the map itself had learned to change And you said, maybe this is all we get A little awe, a little counterfeit So hold the thought before it disappears We’ve been getting good at losing years There’s something funny in the grand design It keeps arriving several beats behind You lean into the gap and there it is The part nobody promised would make sense Maybe this is all we get A little awe, a little counterfeit Hold the thought before it disappears We’ve been getting good at losing years