Deepline — The Longer Road

You walk down to the water
with your shoes still in your hand.
I roll my jeans above my knees.
You reach for me again.
We leave our bags together
at the bottom of the steps.
You ask how long I'm staying.
I haven't booked that yet.
I'm in no hurry
to get back home.
Walk a little slower.
Take the longer road.
You don't have to ask me.
I'm not ready to go.
You shake the sand out of your shirt.
I find it in my hair.
You tell me I've missed some,
then leave your fingers there.
I've got a room across the town.
You've got an early start.
We talk about tomorrow,
still sitting where we are.
I'm in no hurry to get back home.
Walk a little slower.
Take the longer road.
I came here for a week
with every day arranged.
There's still a train on Friday,
but I could have it changed.
I'm in no hurry
to get back home.
Walk a little slower.
I'll take the longer road.
You don't have to ask me.
I'm not ready to go.
My keys are in my pocket.
Your jacket's on my arm.
We stop outside your building.
You lean against the car.
I'm in no hurry.
I've nowhere else to be.
You can take your time.
You don't have to walk with me.
But if you're going farther,
I'll take the longer street.
Keep your hand in mine.
We can take our time.
I'm in no hurry
to leave this behind.