Sunshine, break through the blinds of my Monday,

pour like gold on the rust in my veins.

I was a ghost in the headlines,

till your warm hand rewrote the refrain.

We’re barefoot on the edge of maybe,

laughing at the cracks in the sky;

every shadow you turn into summer,

every kiss is a permanent high.

So stay, light up the miles of my maybes—

if you fade, I’ll still burn from your glow.

Lately I’ve been, I’ve been trading sleep for neon skies,

counting stars we misplaced in the scroll of our phones.

Dreams stack like debit, bleeding gold through the Wi-Fi,

but I feel alive when the bass hits my broke headphones.

No more nine-to-five cages, we’re fugitives of the playlist,

spark it up, let the rent wait, let the landlord chase us.

We’ll burn this night like vinyl, spin it till the sunrise cracks,

singing oh—every stumble’s just a shooting star in disguise.