Cursed R.i.p.
Crash course in burning out
I said I'd never be the kind
So stuck in glory days
They forget to let dead bury their own.
So what is this that's trying to slow me down?
Feels like the dead weight of all our broken promises
And every stillborn declaration carried too far too long.
I remember the songs the saved me.
And the words that came so easy.
And the pulpits that sprang up beneath our feet.
And it never even crossed our minds the words could ever be wrong.
All that confidence wasted on the young.
We tapped that vein and bled it dry.
Now nothing fits (yeah but what ever did?)
We always thought that we had time.
To let the dead bury their own.
We always thought that we had time.
