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Dec 2010
Infallible were the nights we spent alone on rocky shorelines
I never gave all those pent-up emotions I had to the king of the stop signs
Like you did
I never counted on your instances
You do kid
About counting lost images oh, oh

Dishonorable were the things we stashed when we were in Oklahoma
Counting our chickens before they've hatched and saying your freckles were melanoma
Like we did
I could always count on you being morbid
You may kid
But your eyes don't lie when you are sordid

Containable were our dark white lies we told each other in confidence
Playing the double agent just like a cave filled with resonant
Echo-o-o-o-o-o-os
good times, good times, good times, good times, good times.
Written by
Clayton Woolery
762
 
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