She Dreams of Melting Rocks

I'm driving around your home town with all four windows down,
 I've been watching the odometer and thinking about geography
 and the couple thousand miles of barren
 country constantly dividing you and me.
 Or hiding out in the basement where we used to make out
 And constantly complain about the circumstances we found ourselves in
 when we were just two kids both just too proud to admit
 just how fortunate we were to have come across each other.
 Nothing's made sense like that made sense since.
 And so now it's waiting around for letters in the post
 And photos that tell tales of all your travels and of a distant coast
 It includes a scoop of sand to sift through my weathered hands
 Just like all the time we spent and the time we took for granted.