To the Death
Quelle: Spotify
I need a spell to stop my friends from feeling guilty every time they talk about you. How every subject led to the last words that they might have said, it’s like I’ve lost a part of them too. So I talk to you. I need a drink. I need the distance that the daylight brings to drift into the sleep I lose each night. Your boys parade their sorrows, say there’s nothing that they could have done, and I hate myself for thinking they’re right. So no more songs about suicide. Break the swagger in yr stride. And here’s to the death. To the holes in whatever’s left. If we’re supposed to make the most of every moment, how come all the memories I keep are shrapnel sharp, embedded deep? If you could see this mess you’d leave, would you still? So here’s to the hope. How each and every rope thrown out forms bridges we can build without you. We talk in abstract terms about our grief and how it strengthens us, and secretly hope that that’s true. Still opens wounds on yr birthday. That’s one dumb legacy. And here’s to the death. To the holes in whatever’s left. If we’re supposed to make the most of every moment, how come all the memories I keep are shrapnel sharp, embedded deep?If you could see this mess you’d leave, would you still? Yeh would you still? And oh-my-god. How come all the memories I keep are shrapnel sharp, embedded deep? If you could see this mess you’d leave, would you?
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