Finding by lighterlight
Memories of harmonization
Love of nostalgia and a storm heavy In the air
Ya I could use a drink
Hell it could probably
Use me
Ol blue eyes writing pretty things
Sadness all dressed up as talent
And it isn't the smoke in these
Old blue eyes
Maybe it's all these smashed pumpkins
Or maybe just these long still moments
By lighterlight

Cause its miles in between
But I've never been good at judging distance
So far when I've lived with em
So **** close two towns over
In a state spread out
And in a spread out state
Would've walked it a minute ago
But I've settled for settling and gotten in the habit
Now the world is getting sick anyways
and curfew is consistent like
We waiting for sirens singing
So I type and type as rage against
The collective connector
The great introducer
I just hope we get off our phones
When we finally get to hang

Ya I get it, i wasn't trying for upmost control
In fact I forbid it
Left behind thoughts of well, who did it
Who gripped to hard and tipped it
In the favor
In the flavor of rot, sickly not sweet
But **** like a summer sun over a fools smoking gun
I miss your heat
Please creep into mine again
Deep inside astride a genetic reject
Of a High horse
We stayed high of course
Headlong the joust though I keep thinking
My lance was shrinking
Guess the credit amassed off the best *** had
To run out sometime
And here I am with this blatant punishing example of
What my blindside refuse to turn and see
And you're happy
And its all I want, but im still gonna be here drowning
And you're happy

Music, ****,  memories and exile
Not exactly math but add up to
Dead and Dancing
Its all just electric chemicals,
Leftover love from a critical cannibal
Frankenstein in a world of human monsters
No hunting here, no seasons left sans winter
Worse than fire for a dry and dead old man
these used to be,
Such big strong hands
But a hoarse voice burnt out on cursing a maker
I cant uncurl, the hate in
These fingers love

Black sheep of white trash
Cold blue pulled you with old truths
Never was good at changing in a phone booth
My pockets to full of bits of proof
Of what I don't care anymore, of that actually
Isn't so rare anymore
Dust to dust and I wouldn't test my metal or rust
Sword invert on decisions made on fade to quick
Blame it on a curse but i'm just a klutz
Blind and swinging now I guess
Just because