ON THE RUN

Mi Amor, Mi Cómplice

EveryTime I ask myself why? I come back to you.

Remember when I asked you to pack for our Mediterranean summer? We were hitting Lisbon for a little Bonnie and Clyde moment. Right under the sun. On the beach. In the sand. With only the ocean as our witness.

All I needed to start over was you. I could ride any wave so long as it had space for two. I asked you if you wanted to be an outlaw with me.

You took off your angel wings and said:

“Yes, baby.”

Oh what a saint you are for me! You make miracles happen (you and all your divinity). You make miracles happen (you and your lips and your hips.)

And before we took off I asked you...what we were escaping from? What were we chasing? I wrote you a note on the fridge with the little word magnets:

Why picture the blue water over there?
We can play here
The light shines on us wherever we go

But every night I had dreams of the salty air, and the fried cod. The tawny and the tequila. The cobblestone and the hills.

I wanted to take our scenes international. To perform our romance abroad. By the water—where we love it most. Because I knew then: wherever we could be you and me, I would feel free.

I was ready to sweat it out with you. To bleed it out with you. To take the leap of faith. To make our vows on the run. Just two stupid fugitives in love. With a little beach town to call home.

NoOne can catch us. Portugal’s Most Wanted. Let’s spend the days playing stick up. And blow our take every night as we dance it all away.