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The Brave Little Abacus
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Untitled (cont.)
Every time I cry about your transcience
I replace you with the thought of
The growing moon as I climb towards it
Tell myself 'It's not too late'
And rest assured that I won't ever have to care
About anyone, because it's too late and with you it gets harder to realize it gets harder.
Do you ever think about
You promised
I want to die when you're not here
Because I'm convinced that everyone else thinks that I'm a dick
My ideals fog up my windshield and I crash into the houses
They depict in their songs
I want to be a part of you again
Face the crowds and turn back again
Rediscover why we're turning
Back Away
From a town you say has lost all of its meaning
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In a way
I can't see the town I only see frustration
And see a landscape
A blank
Raw canvas
And yes, we're all out own co-pilots
In our cockpits made of tin
And when we think about each other
We despise the states we're in
I can't tell you that it's better
Because I'm truly not that sure
But I think that this is better
Because this way we are sure
That we're not happy yet...
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