Title Track

Left uninspired by the crust of railroad earth
that touched the lead to the pages of your
manuscript.

I took my thumb off the concrete and saved up
all my strength to hammer pillars for a picket
fence.

It wasn't quiet what it seemed... a lack of
pleasantries (my able body isn't what it used to
be).

I must admit I was charmed by your advances...
your advantage left me helplessly into you.

Talking how the group had begun to splinter
and I could taste your lipstick on the filter...

I tried my best to keep my distance from your
dress but call-response overturns conviction
every time.

My memory cannot recall... a wave of alcohol we
shared a cigarette and shaved the hours off.

Lushing with the hallway congregation, my best
judgement signed its resignation.

I rushed this.

We moved too fast, and tripped into the
guestroom.



Credits
Writer(s): Krystle Warren
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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