I painted a picture in my head of a world embracing,
Now it hangs like a carrot from the tail we’re chasing,
You never made a wave in that pool you drowned in,
Still searching for a reason in the loss we’re found in,
If I became Saint Christopher you were Saint Thomas,
Building stronger walls around a broken promise,
I gave everything to make it, and you called me lucky,
Sleeping in my car somewhere in East Kentucky,
Maybe a fairytale ending wasn’t worth the hassle,
So we handed back the keys to that old kingless castle,
We all try to write a story hoping it might outlive us,
But if we tell all of our secrets then who will forgive us?
Now an angel sings a song atop your faded dresser,
Wings clipped inside a cage so that you can possess her,
And I’m still locked inside a moment that I can’t outlast,
Wondering how these years left me behind so fast,
Now tip one more glass of poison as I toast my health,
You’re still the only voice I hear when I talk to myself,
Like the shadow of an echo of your hand still waving,
A fever-dream reminder of a world worth saving,
Maybe together we can find a way to endure this path,
Fighting the current as we kick against the river’s wrath,
And we’ll never let them tell us how much we can take,
Our muscles scream for mercy, but our bones won’t break.