All eyes on the calendar
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Another year I claim of total indifference
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To here the days pile up
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With decisions to be made
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I'm sure all of them were wrong
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Into this song, I send myself
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And with these drinks I plan to collapse and forget
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This wasted year
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These wasted years
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Devoted friends, they disappear
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I'm sorry about the phone call and needing you
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Some decisions you don't make
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I guess it's like breathing and not wanting to
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There are some things that you can't fake
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I guess that it is typical
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To cling to memories you'll never get back again
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And to sort through old photographs of a summer long ago
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Or a friend that you used to know
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And there, below his frozen face
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You wrote the name and that ancient date
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And you can't believe he is really gone
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When all that's left is a fucking song
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I'm sorry about the phone call and waking you
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I know that its late
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But thank you for talking because I needed to
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Some things just can't wait
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|
-----------------
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Feb. 15th
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| Bright Eyes |
