Golden Hour Drive

August is slipping through our open hands

Leaving tire tracks in the coastal sand

Windows rolled down, feeling the breeze Tracing shadows under cypress trees

And the dashboard's warm to the touch

We don't have to say all that much (ooh-ooh)

Driving home at golden hour

Underneath the fading sun

This last week of summer magic Has only just begun (yeah)

Radio's hummin' a familiar tune

Watching the rise of a pale white moon

Sunscreen and salt still on my skin

Thinking of where we both begin

We can't freeze the clock

But we can slow it down (mmmmm)

Driving home at golden hour

Underneath the fading sun

This last week of summer magic Has only just begun

Golden hour fades away

(golden hour...)