Did you expect it all to stop at the wave of your hand?
Like the sun's just going to drop if it's night you demand.
Well, in the dark we're just air so the house might dissolve.
But once we are gone, who's gonna care if we were ever here at all?
Well, summer's going to come, it's gonna cloud our eyes again.
No need to focus when there's nothing that's worth seeing.
So we trade liquor for blood in an attempt to tip the scales.
I think you lost what you loved in that mess of details.
They seemed so important at the time
but now you can't even recall any of the names, faces, or lines.
It's more the feeling of it all.
Well, winter is going to end, I'm going to clean these veins again.
So close to dying that I finally can start living.
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