Twelve Hour Turn It's Your Move
i remember white pants and white shirtspoison ivy'd
swollen eyes will try to keep us home
flowers in children's hands
released in graveyard sand
and 21 gun salutes
if you listen long enough
you will hear our hopes and fears
it will take a death to make this one live
we will lose our breath into
empty hearts and tragic first love stories
but the truth is a necessity in this case
and a stand from a weak man
this is where we witness scenes
landscapes inhabited by single solitary machines
this is where we place our feet
you take it all; this is where i am bound to be
and if you had let me carry you
like i had wanted to, i'd have dropped you too
legs arent fit to bear the weight of all of you
and i want to quit looking so hard for you
fresh face but the pace is nothing new
a five am phone call
it couldnt, it wouldnt hurt
i'm still waiting to breathe;
my side hurts and lines alone wont make things right
i didnt do anything
you didnt do anything with this privilege
(still trying to save ourselves)
