Getting wasted on the weekend as the winter descends is the right thing to do – yeah I will be okay if you will be okay. As the tire tracks and the accidents don’t bother us, we’ll find a stoplight that’s red, where you can rest your eyes and I can scream the winter sky a cold one, now I’m fucked up, I don’t have a wish or a tidy, naked statuette to sit on my heaving chest, put my brain right back to rest. Cause it’s early on your eyelids, and I’m distant, and you are still so new to me – but I think it’s something good, and I won’t pick you apart. I could make you love me, I could fill you up with all of my grief and my empty eyes – I could try to be a dog, I could tear your love apart.
But there’s something in me, you’re all I need; but there’s something in you, you won’t find me.
If it’s a picture, and I learn that it falls apart, well at least I tried to do something good – yeah I know that you’re good, and I really hope I’m good.
But there’s something in me, you’re all I need; but there’s something in you, you won’t find me.
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