i don't listen to hardcore
i just scream along to my mom's folk records
i don't dream like a real boy
i just make every effort to forget her
in a car by the river with your hands in my shirt
i won't leave til i'm done i won't stop til i'm hurt
it was a dream i never had, all that shaking konfidense
i'm a desert, i'm a plateau, throwing up in the afternoon
when i was 16 i cut my wrists with a butter knife
a tylenol suicide, i said "i wanna hold your hand"
in the woods on the walk home from school i wanna make sense
in a midnight car by the river where you deflect my kiss
i said i'm giving up on drinking
i'm gonna start living a saner life
but i just wake up in the kitchen
with a bottle of whiskey and a butcher knife
i've got your records in my brain, i've got things i wanna say
i've got no complaints and a heartbeat like a hammer
my blood is loud, and my hands are folded
and you are the lottery but all bets are closed
when i 16 i was a dreamer like a widowed wife
nerves like hunger, my roots twist under the ground
in the woods on the walk home from school i saw your sundress
in a midnight car by the mountain we made love bathed in moonlight.
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