If it is 11a.m. on Oxford Street
And 6 p.m. in Jurong,
Do we say good morning or goodnight?
36 and 8 degrees Celsius
Maybe, we can meet somewhere in between
Half way border
Where 24 degrees will still be warm for you
But I can only hope for a breeze
When we say goodbye at the airport,
You want to hold me for as long as you can,
You think you’ve almost convinced time to slow down.
I want to run to the plane; I know I can pretend this moment will never happen, right before it begins.
Our hearts don’t beat in tandem
But they beat nonetheless
A low, bass
Carries me through