I've never made good on any of my escapes
I'm just stumbling through exits and crawling back through hallways
And now I'm either drinking people up or pouring them down kitchen sinks
And I wish I had more control for what I think
It's all bad living and scar worn skin
It's these inconvenient answers and vast stretches of social sin
Now it's all just currency and vigilant curiosity
"Could it be? Could it be?"
Even so, would it be?
Oh no
You would yet be the darkness that could
Drive us all blind
But even so
I don't think it means that you should try
See it's exactly as unfortunate as it is true
Nothing changes, it just shifts, 'cause there's nothing f*cking new
So we'll get drunk enough to greet the arms of sleep
But we're still hopeless enough that it's our fates
We'd rather meet
Oh Christ
There is a future in left flowers
And sentiments of remember when
Is that what she meant
When she said "I think that you are tying off loose ends?"