How low is the reason for all this exhibition,
I see the little something hide.
And my lungs are filled with habits you hold,
And I see nothing but smiles,
I seeth from inside.
We’ve grown old like all good lust should end with us,
So as lights stream intermittent,
And shoulders fallen, risen,
We’ll see our measure.
Time in my hands, I only see what we had,
The harder the horror the more there’s to cut loose.
No more trying to picture this in my head,
As your friends sing this song back to you.
As your friends sing these songs back to you,
I’m undone.
You hold like envisioned, so gentle but incisioned,
You mix the basest crows with the night.
And the sums repeat, the gravity holds me to,
The space that the autumn leaves,
Like love at your side.
Only we’ve known all the love strewn, ending us,
So we stay we our decision,
With careless inhibition,
We are no better.
Is love just forgetting the horror?
