1. |
Intro
00:35
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2. |
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if my legs are weak and im being crushed by the worlds weight on my shoulders,
would you stand by me and share the load for now until were much older?
well, i think we could overcome and not break down.
these nights keep passing by us, the days keep getting shorter,
and when my city sleeps, i lie awake and picture us back home,
but its still just a dream and counting sheep just seems to make it worse.
you know, id love to find a way for us to all be back again.
cause all these miles can really do
is keep me from standing next to you.
but they cant change the way
we relate or our ability to convey,
the old memories we tell our new friends,
the night we had to say goodbye,
all the things we used loved and somehow lost.
you know, id love to find a way for us to all be back again.
you know, weve got to find a way for us to all come home again.
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3. |
The Great Escape
03:29
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the cold of winter, the dead of night,
we left that place and were never going back.
a story much less about glory,
but more of preservation,
the citys lights shined, calling,
so we ran into the night.
and in our little town they searched on, long into the days,
we tried to grow into our surroundings, but we were never meant to stay,
the days drifted into years as we figured out our new place,
clinging to our dreams, too big to carry home.
im just lucky that i got out while i could,
this town has a way of burying you.
in the graveyards of our hometowns and things we left behind,
we shut the door on sentiments and look forward to find,
an overwhelming sense of comfort as these skyscrapers embrace us.
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4. |
Storm Drain
01:55
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its been raining for days now. down the hill past the train tracks you're asleep, dreaming of a better life than this one. and I miss you sometimes but I know it all just floods down the river and out to sea. I could have floated forever. but this is home, the streets we know. sorry I could never put this more eloquently. it's all these foggy nights and summer park reminders, of everything we've made. our most productive days are the ones that we waste.
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5. |
Dissociated
02:09
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wide awake at night and almost alone. I wonder why I even waste my breath on you at all. now we're older and these frantic days are photocopies of those sketches of our lives. the original designs.
you were the only friend I had inside those walls. we spoke in codes so that the guards would never know.
you found a crack in the foundations that led you out past the walls and gates into the field and you never looked back. can't really blame you for that. but if you'd stayed I'd be there with you. overmedicated, sleeping out the days. in your voice I could always hear the strain. our failures are well documented, fuckups and problems of our own invention, holding back when the moment comes. suddenly not feeling so tough.
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