I guess it wasn¡¯t as bad as it sounds.
|
We wore the embers like a crown,
|
as a reminder to remember
|
things don¡¯t heat up until the sun goes down.
|
From between the heat of passing cars,
|
well things got ugly from the start.
|
We saved some money from some crimes
|
and use it all to tattoo the scars.
|
Let the story dilate
|
Mike stayed forty miles away,
|
things weren¡¯t getting any better at his place.
|
Over bail bonds and broken pores,
|
with solemn hearts and solid boards.
|
Traversed the stairs to fade the memories,
|
closed it up and locked the doors.
|
So close but still haloed to crash the calm
|
It¡¯s only one night so what¡¯s the harm?
|
This apartment is no more haven than home.
|
Let¡¯s flood the floors,
|
come tomorrow we¡¯ll all be gone.
|
I always dreamed but never would¡¯ve thought
|
that five of us sifting through the ash
|
would be the end result of too great a cost.
|
We placed the call to Nashville to him
|
Cincinnati burned us down.
|
The more I say these things out loud,
|
the more the words just twist around.
|
So slowly find it strange
|
young men with principles have a way of accumulating debts with ages.
|
Replace the fiction while the story ignites the scene.
|
We¡¯re thinking it¡¯s too much to ask for
|
while the flames ignite the dream.
|
We¡¯re sinking and they¡¯re beginning to jettison the hopeful.
|
I fear it¡¯s what I hoped for.
|
I willed it and if so
|
it¡¯s from real
|
And it¡¯s my ship to sink with.
|
It could be the drain of summer heat,
|
Fourth of July or enemies.
|
Bad wiring, bad timing.
|
It could be the weight of gravity.
|
It could be a story that no one will ever believe.
|
It could be a million things but please,
|
right now we only need a place to sleep.
|
So close but still haloed to crash the calm.
|
It¡¯s only one night so what¡¯s the harm.
|
Come sunrise those drinks won¡¯t keep you warm.
|
It¡¯s up to you I could be here I could be gone
|
things don¡¯t heat up until the sun goes down.
|
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Arson At 563
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Crime In Stereo |