1. |
Backscripted
04:41
|
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|
I’ve been in your car for weeks
Till the distance grows more than we can stand
I can’t stand to hear you as your shifting in and out between the breeze
Or feel you as the world beneath you bends between your feet
As you drift off to sleep
And it’s not so far
And it’s not that bad
In the house where you grew up
With your voice caught
In the letters that you send
But there’s more that we should say
Backscripted till the moments that we cursed our years and gave regret it’s place
But it’s nothing that could stop me
Even though there’s days it haunts me
Have you known it all along
How you’d swallow every song
If the letters send, relentless
And the wounds are open, endless
Take the early flight back home
Marry our hearts to the road
|
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2. |
401/403 South
05:39
|
|||
|
I wish things were how they used to be
From the bed of your new home
Diagnose my doubters disease and leave well enough alone
We speak between our teeth as we abate the looming end
Beneath the hands of God and the best laid plans of men
I shake down the hall
And I hover around the call
It’s not the way I thought it’d be when we got older
Well it may not be quite what you meant
But it sure is what you said
You see I get paid to exegete and these letters all run red
Each day I go to pieces and then I beg you to restore
But should you ever keep your silence, it would sink me through the floor
You shake down the hall
And you hover around the call
Is this the way you thought it’d be when you got older?
It’s fingers to glass
Lavender in an IV bag
This is the life I always dreamed although it’s colder
It’s a stage three haze and it’s been this way since summer
it’s the first steps taken since your scalpel lover
and there’s no way out but through the parking lot and the waiting room
or the funeral were you mourn your bloodless brother
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