The Only Floor Left

The grass turned into empty air at nine.
The park bench drifted off into the dark.
We built a fire right where the lawn was wide.
Now heat is the only floor left in the night.

The cars below are floating upside down.
Their headlights point at stars we used to know.
Nobody screams because the tape still plays.
We step across the embers one by one.

My shoes are warm against the yellow light.
If I misstep I fall into the clouds.

The others move in circles hand in hand.
Their faces bright, their shadows lost below.

You hold my wrist against the pull of night.
You keep my feet upon this burning ground.
The whole world dropped away an hour ago.
You are the only floor left in the dark.

Your jacket smells like pine and summer smoke.
Your grip is tight and steady on my skin.
I watch an oak tree sink into the moon.
I do not look down past my leather soles.

You hold my wrist against the pull of night.
You keep my feet upon this burning ground.
The whole world dropped away an hour ago.
You are the only floor left in the dark.

The tape deck keeps on playing through the spark.
The chorus echoes out where towns once stood.
I ask you if your arms are getting tired.
You pull me closer to the center ring.

You hold my wrist against the pull of night.
You keep my feet upon this burning ground.
The whole world dropped away an hour ago.
You are the only floor left in the dark.

You hold my wrist against the pull of night.
You keep my feet upon this burning ground.
The whole world dropped away an hour ago.
You are the only floor left in the dark.