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I put a seashell to my ear, and it all comes back.
The yellow sun,
the Mediterranean blue of the sky,
The children running on the beach that day,
The killdeer birds marching in formation
Down to the sea and back, down to the sea and back.

When my memory wanders, as it does when bad things happen,
I put a seashell to my ear and it all comes back.
That day,
You,
Even the gypsies
It all comes back.

You see what loving does?
It makes you trust in horoscopes
and gypsy wands
and fortune tellers
and even seashells.

I still believe in love.
It's hard these days, you know?
And yet it's still a great adventure
Better than blowing bridges
Or a bus ride to Chicago
Even better than running away from home to join the gypsies.

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