Were moving mountains, isnt that enough?
Were taking turns at turning backs,
And forgoing our love. Distaste
Is inevitable, and leaves a bad feeling in your conscious.
We forgot the point.
Lets pretend that we can hide like cities in the night.
Dont try to stop it.
Lets pretend that we can hold on.
Were bidding applause with eloquence and fleeting calls.
Can I choose to stop my lungs,
And let the words sit on their tongue?
Watch the flicker waltz on the walls.
Were holding fast with shaking hands and sewing ties with lesser men.
I am the stereotype.
I am the wrong to all thats right.
Dont give up on wounded arms.
Im wrong. Youll write the fullness down.
You pray. I fight alone.