Parker Lee - Boston Lyrics

On a parkside bench besides the end of all the rest
There'll be drawings of hands all on the floor
And we're arguing over the size of your plans
And the size of the stars between steel bars
On a loose end, poor excuse for regiments
Do you wanna be lined up on a wooden floor
Biting that someone you once called friend
Could take a second chance to leave a second scar
Maybe this is a one night thing
And I'm clinging to my hopes that you
Can set aside your knives for now
Never cared that much for what you say
Asking questions about where I want to be
Can we exclude the future for a while
And I'm with you in Boston
I think you're getting dressed
I hear you on the phone
You're sounding like a magistrate
Tossing words through an understanding that I don't know
I'm out of change, I can't swallow this kind of change
I'm not made for digging holes on on my own
Despite the things I said
I am missing you to death
So leave a message, I'm coming home
I'm a skeleton at best
I don't need you in my chest
Another organ that I can't call my own
And I'm with you in Boston
I think you're getting dressed
I hear you on the phone
You're sounding like I'm becoming second best
I don't need a contender to hold my own
Give it a rest, take it to Sundays past
When I was still around and you were worth the show