I cut my fingers on a broken picture frame
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The welling up waxes and wanes. It's not fair and it hasn't been
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All my friends are living saints. Been killing me for weeks
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A garden weed that cracks concrete. It hasn't been fair for long
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Growing up isn't moving on.
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Moving on. Nooo. Moving on.
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Do you miss our broken reason, the nights spent treating
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Troubles and normalcy to bottles and comedies?
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You forgot your necklace upstairs on purpose
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It was you golden ticket scam and it always made us laugh
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Do you see me as your acquaintance, your death by time, age and long
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distance?
|
|
Broken picture frames
|
The welling up waxes and wanes. It's not fair and it hasn't been
|
All my friends are living saints. Been killing me for weeks
|
A garden weed that cracks concrete. It hasn't been fair for long
|
Growing up isn't moving on
|
|
All my friends are living saints, living saints, living saints.
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Broken still but never breaking ties (X3)
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Moving on.
|
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I never pictured this, disperse in fall and don't reminisce
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See it's just not fair, not everyone moved on.
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-----------------
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Living Saints
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| Polar Bear Club |
