Texty: Will Stratton. Fireflies.

I don't think much will ever come of it
It's just that nothing ever does
We always go out with high expectations
And then the sun sets, and I start thinking, 'cause

The red and the yellow
The black and the blue
It might sound kind of shallow
But colors are all I ever knew

The fireflies are coming out
The cicadas are quieting down
These summer nights are like walking through
The hiding place a child found

The amber glow of the windows as we pass by little homes
People talking in their living rooms
They must feel so very much alone

All these sterile rows of parchment houses and paper trees
I don't know if you'd suppose that when dawn hits
Everybody sees

The red and the yellow
The black and the blue
It might sound kind of shallow
But colors are all I ever knew