I'm never gonna see this place again
with these colonial red houses in my eyes.
The catacombs they wrote to kill the day
while mom tried hard to feel alive.
The lower middle class it finds a way
so it's like a car father could instead circumnavigate the lower 48.
None of it was ours to take, you know.
It's the way you make myself miserable.
Over
and over.
I'm never gonna see his face again.
We took a barber off his scarf in that July.
We set fireworks,
they charred birch billboards outside county lines.
You're not fine.
It's the way you make myself miserable.
Over
and over.
It's the way you make myself miserable.
Over and over.
Over
and over.
I'm losing myself thinking this way.
Gator,
rip kit,
come on, come on, come on, come on.
It's the way you make myself miserable.
Over and over.
It's the way you make yourself miserable.
Over and over.
When
you left through the window to get to my house,
Slips on the roof, soft fall knocked you out.
Staying up late,
you're a thorn in my side.
Couldn't help but thinking I swore you had died.
Use and discretion's a time spent alone.
It's all we have but our skin and our bones.
Look at the frame and now I'm getting old and it's gone,
gone.
I know, I know, I know that it's...