An Old One

I want to run, run far from here,
my hand in yours and my hair in the wind,
my back to the inopportunity of this grey town.
You and I together could make excellent time;
around the world we go,
flying like the wind and stopping for nothing
and no one.
Let's flee, you and I,
steal away in the night and never come back.
And if we get lonely, we always have each other,
right?
You're all I need, I just know it.
So what's the delay?
You bring the strength, I'll bring the will,
and out we'll break from here.
I can see it now, you and me on the open road,
admiring the scenery, admiring the freedom,
admiring the company of the other.
We could walk all day and rest all night,
in the middle of the lush grassy meadows,
under the watchful eyes of the moon
and all her stars.
You could make love to me,
in the middle of nowhere, but the center of somewhere.
We could lie in that grass, sweaty and content,
for the rest of the night,
until up comes the sun and out goes the secrecy.
We could run again,
always putting more distance between us and here,
distance that we never again have to cover,
for as long as we live.
Every once in a while
we'll steal behind a towering elm
and I'll kiss you right on the mouth;
and I'll hesitate to take my lips off of yours
because they feel so perfect under my own,
and perfection is something we could all use
a little more of.
And one day, I guess, we'll get tired of running.
Once the distance between here and there
is infinite,
we can lie in the grass, together,
watch the sun rise, set, and rise again.
We'll stay there and become
the world's biggest secret.