You laughed when they struck me with stones.
You cried when you kissed another man.

There's a hole in my soul
I left it there for you
You filled it with wine
And we watched it pour blood

Now I'm stuck inside these fleeting memories
Photos you took on our anniversary
Of the day we never met
But I smashed the camera
When we gave our hearts to the sea

It's been a memorable summer
But in truth I'd rather forget

All these days 
they seem to run together
All these days 
we seem to run apart
All these days 
they seem to become one
All these days 
we seem to split in two

There's a tearing in my chest
I left it there for you
Remind me what's best again
And I'll lose myself in it

Now I'm stuck inside these unwakeable dreams
I knew what the secrets were
That you hid away in your head
But I lost the key 
When we gave our hearts to the sea

It's been a memorable summer
But in truth I'd rather forget

All these days 
they seem to run together
All these days 
we seem to run apart
All these days 
they seem to become one
All these days 
we seem to split in two

All these days 
they seem to run together
All these days 
we seem to run apart
All these days 
they seem to become one
All these days 
we seem to split in two

It's been a memorable summer
But in truth I'd rather forget

Eager, *****, I washed my hands of you
in Rippling Creek on the 1st of January --
the beginning of the beginning.

As you turned to driftwood,
the friends and cross-eyed strangers
asked what was I thinking when I let go of you.

My mouth stitched by bongwater haze
all I could do -- watch your notched body soak.

Now on the 18th of September,
sitting in Fox Hollow, USA,
the shiniest of suburbs --
the sober of the sober--
In honest,
I say I'd rather have you alive and hating me
than dead and loving me.

If I lied in the grey dawn,
it was out of love.
If I lied in the grey dawn,
I was out of truth.

I'm alone
fending off vultures prying in with fake Facebook profiles,
taking threats from fathers who long ago went blind,
and this much I promise to you and Fox Hollow, USA:

I will quarantine the past.

I'm a bit of a ****-up, sure
definitely not a honed ideal, a little bit
askew around the rougher edges, with no
niche found as of yet to proudly call
my own in this humbling collection of
determined bodies, but I wouldn't have
it any other way

I must be me. Otherwise
there is no chance
whatsoever

      and every dream is
      worthless (which of
      course is miles from
      true)

stand up and start
up (you'd better get
up) with fiery eyes and
a wistful heart