| Ride my bike to the place where I’ll spend the night, then the other.
|
| Backwards hat out of fashion, into the light of your brother’s jacket.
|
| Is the air clear? |
| Are we clear here?
|
| I’m sick of the drugs and the pointless coldness. |
| It’s overdramatic.
|
| I’d walk you home, if you were up for it
|
| But truth be told--you make me nervous
|
| I’ll hold the door if you’ll let me.
|
| But if chivalry’s dead--I'll go home with my mistake, shake the whole thing off.
|
| Bring myself to wake up when the morning comes.
|
| The butcher shoppe is only a street down.
|
| Machine Gun is chasing Slugs away.
|
| You’re bored as hell, I see you trying on your makeup
|
| But you hate yourself, that’s why you’re lonely when you wake up.
|
| Ride my bike up the hill with the sun in my eyes. |
| Getting tired.
|
| Sweaty brown hat under a helmet, and into the light of a conversation.
|
| It’s a swift ride down the E line.
|
| I’ll miss you when I’m gone but I won’t miss the fucking incline.
|
| Can’t get the fear of failure off my mind.
|
| You’d tell me if my life was on the line.
|
| Keep telling myself that I’m right this time,
|
| But if it’s all the same,
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| I’ll fly home with my regrets,
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| Hope you don’t wake up,
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| See the spot in my bed
|
| Where I was last month.
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| Sorry I’m a flake.
|
| Tend to fuck things up.
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| When you see me take off
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| You’ll be glad I’m gone. |