Time is the wake that forms behind us,
If you stick around, you'll see it mold,
Into the flatness of the sea,
Or the roaring waves of the electric storm.
You're God-damn right I think about the past,
I framed it and I put in my room.
Something's amidst in the water,
And I open my eyes and shield the sun,
Well I can't see through all the water,
But if I could, I'd be afraid and I couldn't run.
Oh, what the hell's the point of this conversation?
Your mouth moves, and your words, they make a song
And I can't get those words out of my head,
No matter how much I try,
They burn slowly into my mind.
And I just wanna lay on the floor.
all rights reserved