Running syrupy orange golden across the lawn
You smiled and stared out the window
Transfixed by the color
Hypnotized by the hue
Everything had turned so golden
Your fingers found the barrier of glass between
The window pane smudged with powdered sugar
Setting on the curve of your lip
Sweet Carolina
Found you at the local trainstation
Sweet Carolina
Didn't understand your fame
But every breath you took stank of honey
Damn you for that name
You wanted to be a ballerina
With two left feet and a thick accent
When you think I'm not watching
Stand on the tip of your toes and hum
Now your golden
I was always watching
You still tingle on my fingertips
You think you can fool me?