Wish I could write songs
about anything other than death
But I can't go to bed
Without drawing
The red shaving off breaths
Each one so heavy
Each one so cumbersome
Each one a lead
Weight hanging between my lungs
Spilling my guts
Sweat on a microphone
Breaking my voice
Whenever I'm alone with you
Can't talk but
isn't this weather nice
Are you okay
Should I go somewhere else
And hide my face
A sprinter learning to wait
A marathon runner
My ankles are sprained
A marathon runner
My ankles are sprained