Mountains don't mean as much as I thought they did once.
While they're beautiful, I can cut right through without feeling miserable.
What were the chances the likes of me would meet the likes of you again?
One in a million.
And who the hell do you think you are to make me so happy?
For the first time I can finally breathe without feeling and fearing the weight of never being enough.
This is the fullest my heart's been in years.
Oh to hear this fall from my lips, you have proven you're worth it and wonderful.
Track Name: 38 Rolls Of Tape Later And All I Got Was This Lousy Pile Of Paper
So I have found there's just something about this room that gets me so down and I am tired of drowning myself now.
Maybe one day I will finally find a way to tear myself away from caffeine and how it made her hyperactive tear stained cheek taste, or that frantic look on your face.
Why must I always find things I don't remember writing.
How exciting is my life?
Oh I'll paint this whole wall red.
I can't remember the scab, but I still recall her dress.
This confliction is consistent.
You have given me all of the closure that you can afford and it is more than I deserve.
So I tore it all down and I made you watch me made you help me, watched you watch me, watched you want me, hah, yeah right, I will never be more than never again.
And you know what?
I am finally fine with it because I found someone who's genuinely thankful that I exist.
Track Name: I've Got An Angel Up In Boston
So I hear that you're in town.
For how long exactly will you be sticking around?
Because I'd like to see your eyes and re-memorize the exact shape and strength of your sweltering embrace.
Now I have got you tattooed to my wrist.
I swore this was the last incision I'd ever have to make.
Make me a star tonight and be sure that you've got memorized the size of the smile plastered to my face just incase the Sunday morning paper reporter asks about me.
And I keep my lungs clean most of the time and I don't drink myself to excess except when I am with you in that city.
Yes, that city is the life and death of everything that I've dreamed that could ever be between you and me.
Just incase the Sunday morning paper reporter asks about me...
You're still the first person that I would call from the Webster Theater bathroom stall just to say goodnight and goodbye as I'm choking on my sleeves and my shit and the shocking wealth of acetaminophen floating on the sea that is my thirteen year old stomach.
Just incase the Sunday morning paper reporter asks about me.
Just incase the Sunday morning paper prints my obituary.