My old man used to tell me, “Hope it dangles on a string.”
Like slow spinning redemption. It’s kind of quiet now that you mention.
Well I’m wide awake and you’re fast asleep, roaming cities so discrete.
And I was kinda hoping that you’d stick around, maybe just for me.
Well the script is quick let’s not forget things that haven’t happened yet.
I’ve got my bags packed, I’ve got my bags packed.
You know me well enough, I’ve been up all night.
And I was kinda hoping that you’d stick around, and things would be alright.
Life is such a losing game, but I’ll make the most of what I’ve got.
Things fall apart, this tattered string of second thoughts.
And though we’ve got a ways to go, from dust to dust the stars that curve your smile,
they were mine once for a while.
And though I’ve never seen the world, the world was never one for me.
It’s so departed, I’ll pray to god knows what that I’ve got,
One more long ride home. My friends are in the backseat of a taxi.
Making me feel young again.
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