No Trigger Dried Piss
Press play and I’m gone
Back to the past back to the kid in photographs
With flannel shirts and unforced smirks
Intrepid dispositions, sometimes you can throw it all
away
But a few things tend to stick around
The soundtrack then, it’s in my head
The timing was off then
Now I'm sitting soaked and insecure
Left under a doubting sun
When some streets have too much history you can feel
Like the dried piss on a sewer grate
The soundtrack then, it’s in my head
The memory’s tied to music and it’s stuck in my head
The memory’s tied to music and it’s all I have left
But I keep listening so I don’t forget
The memory’s tied to music and it’s stuck in my head
The memory’s tied to music and it’s all I have left
