translucent dreams where nothing does go wrong and then i stuff those feelings in another fucking song. but, still i don't know what it is i'm really feeling. the floor is concrete and i think my head is reeling.
i'm waiting for another try at saying that i'll go so maybe one day you'll pretend you really know the difference between your home and a mortuary. the comparison isn't flattering, it's scary.
and so i'll know that days are often short and it's my job to make them feel as long as i can trust myself with (in order to be strong). let's see if i can really last that long.
i'll grow a pair of gorgeous wings and clean my lungs so i can start to sing.
you'll see me up there someday and after all we've been through i don't think i can ever say "i'm glad we had this talk, so let's go back to our lives and learn to walk."