Sun on My Skin

If I feel sun on my skin in a small town outside Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

I can be feeling the sunrise as I dance the streets of magical Barcelona

If I slip on lip gloss in an old house in my suburbs

I can live by painting supermodel faces in Paris

If I can steal secrets from my heart to seal them in a song

I can write for the greats and make them hear a fire in my voice

I’m addicted to the scent of rising hope