But these are days we dream about, when the sunlight paints us gold, and this apartment could not be prettier as when we danced up there alone.
The brokenness inside as hope and less collide, now nothing is real
But when conducting business she would lie about where she’s from, saying, "Life is how it is, not how it was"
And with these drinks I plan to collapse and forget this wasted year, these wasted years
And so I raise my glass to symmetry, to the second hand and it's accuracy, to the actual size of everything. The desert is the sand.
You see, sorrow gets too heavy and joy it tends to hold you with the fear that it eventually departs
Like the thing that you tried that you thougt that you liked for a minute, then it all felt wrong so you're change it again, all your clothes, all you're friends it's the same as it ever was