I'm not singing our song.
I've been waiting here for way too long,
Working out long equations,
Drinking from paper bags.
And I've spent 14 summers
Fucking around with this idea
And I'll strain every connection
To show you what I'm made of and
You said again.
"you get what you put in".
My phone won't ring.
I've put in nothing.
I'm not blaming myself.
You're down to dusty bones
And I read about women in black
Floating up to the grey sky.
And if I was wherever you are,
I'd tell you pretty things like
"we can stay as long as you want,
tangled in sunny daylight" and
You said again.
"you get what you put in".
My phone won't ring.
I've put in nothing.
And Those ladies in black,
I saw them ascending, half-smiling.
And we live these scripted fates
But in these moments we drop it and run away.
Run away