DESCRIPTION:
Song: Love Song for Young Novelists with Unrealized Potential
Artist: The Little Hands of Asphalt
Album: Spit Back at the Rain

Lyrics:

Count the days. Decisions are boring. So I'll fold them up and tuck them away. I like you now, but who knows in the morning, when the alcohol has fled the brain.
When I get off work I need new words to wage war on, so let's meet outside the library doors. I'll trade you a notebook and some fresh oxymorons for the smiles that tend to throw me off course.
'Cause now you're just not making sense, my dearest friend ambivalence. You got it wrong this time. I've found better ways of changing my mind. There's still nothing wrong with love. It's just stuck in traffic, not thinking of the day it will change lanes. But there's only one thing that stays the same - so I propose a toast to change.
When spring hits town, let's go out to the islands to work on our post-apocalyptic skills. See, I've found a thing that might just keep us on dry land: My raw affection for you is soon distilled.
As my maps unfurl, it won't always be pretty, with their polar opposites of light and sound. But you're the brightest girl in this whole wide city. And I was the darkest boy in town.
So once the right correction's made and you've rolled your eyes at my serenades, we might choose different trails on our quest for purity in details. For now let's round up our regrets and our imaginary pets. We'll play the same old games, but give them new and better names. I know you like inventing names.