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Did you expect it all to stop
at the wave of your hand
like the suns just gonna drop if its night you demand
well in the dark we're just there
so the house might dissolve
once we're gone who's gonna care
if we were ever here at all
well summers gonna come its gonna cloud our eyes again
no need to focus when theres nothing thats worth seeing
so we trade liquor for blood
in an attempt to tip the scales
i think you lost what you loved
in that mass of details they seemed important at the time
now you cant even recall any names, faces, or lines
its more the feeling of it all
well winters gonna end im going to clean these veins again
so close to dying that i finally can start living.
Bright Eyes:
Bright Eyes:
Bright Eyes:
Bright Eyes:
