She found me in high school, it's a Story you have heard before, of Sunlight and the hope for something more And friendship turns to passion, like some
Slouch down in my puke-orange chair and sigh The air is full of nerves and human cells Beside me sits some awkward girl who lies Fell half in love within
Morning bright, rise Go over your lines Iron your carefully crafted disguise We'd all like to sing It's easy to sigh To sprinkle a handful of plausible
Another Sunday afternoon, nothing much to do Sit and try and make some sense of what I think I think about you Soaked with surroundings that just make
Flying, floating, softly spinning swiftly through my dreams Attempts are made and understanding what it really means Trying to hold humanity in life
Flowers, moonlight, sticky things Songs that mean nothing, places I've been Blood fruit, crying, old guitar strings They're all softly poetic, smoothly
Hey, another numbing light of early morning Another pile of half-read books Nice and safe in my serene surroundings Evil smiles and empty looks Why justify
Waking up each morning with confusion in my eyes Wind is biting through to wave hello See in my reflection an exterior of lies Hope this shaky feeling
I turned on all the sprinklers in the pouring rain To try and hide the real, and I recall Couldn't get to sleep that night, it's still the same No one
An open window shows the stars shine well up there I clear my throat to hear some sound And think of falling out into the open air Blue-black sky and
Here's a little picture for your wallet and your mind It's us when we were searching for the blue we could not find It's us with padded pockets, dazzling
Neon lights and slinking purple skies Squeeze out soft regrets from all our lives And I greet another door that opens in To that place that we repeatedly
I woke you up at four this morning to whimper and to whine To hear myself through spit and crackle of a poor long-distance line Twelve clever ways to
Out on the front porch with a kerosene lamp See white-capped waves rolling five feet high But begging these memories for another advance Is like whispering
