When I turned the page The corner bent into a perfect dog-ear, As if the words knew I'd need them again, But at that time I couldn't see it. I would read that page everyday for the next year. She sang a short tune. And I came from her soft touch and slept. We sat on a shoreline watching wind scalp the white off the waves. Sitting on a shoreline, and if I could do it, I'd dog-ear this page. We spoke about growing old and filling the future's empty stage. She sang a short tune. And I came from her soft touch and slept. When I turned the page The corner bent into a perfect dog-ear, As if the words knew I'd need them again I hope the weather holds, But you don't need the sun to make you shine. These island towns don't care for city folk, But I think we can starve the city from our minds. I know we won't want for much, It's just you and me and a bed and a shoreline.