In a perfect sense of spite I want to outlive everyone
With tail in hand, homebound, and the ampersand that once sat between our names in vain now
We understand new plans and the never-cans

Now there's nothing in the way of you, and me, and the grave
Looking at old photographs it's been a while since we've looked that way

There's a struggle in convincing someone that you're a good idea
I know that in time this feeling will leave but either way you'll be sick of the sight of me
This is an ode to lasting love, and breaking up, and feeling fucked
I know that in time these thoughts will leave but until then you'll be sick of the sight of me

It's been raining on the inside ever since you left
With water damage, waiting for the ground to set
Everything here is just another form of temporary, and surviving, injury

I've been talking about your death with an openness that makes people feel uncomfortable
It's been a while since we've looked that way

There's a struggle in convincing someone that you're a good idea
I know that in time this feeling will leave but either way you'll be sick of the sight of me
This is an ode to lasting love, and breaking up, and feeling fucked
I know that in time these thoughts will leave but until then you'll be sick of the sight of me

-Glass on the beach
-Buried in your feet
-Didn't even notice the bleeding
-No sense, no feeling