Sitting on your porch.
Talkin video games, and weddings.
After a night of drinking;
what more could a brother ask for?

Under the black of this dirt town.
Wanting out.
Nowhere to go.
So we wander:
moving at a liesurely pace.

I can't quite place our de ja vu.
It's lost to month old dreams,
and past lives.
We don't talk enough, but we drink.

I love you.
As a brother does, for his sister.
Everything will be okay in the end,
and if it's not okay
it's not the end.