Alchemy Hour
I was wasted out west.
Exhaling smoke between breaking waves.
Slight pain in my chest.
Heavy with hunger and hope for days
spent so content in attempts to document it.
I could never get it all down.
The summer found me barefoot in a public bathroom,
scraping salt from my skin in whispered half-truths like "
I don't think about you except when
I want to and sometimes when I don't."
So let the dishes pile up in the sink.
Let those collections collect dust.
Let that distracted, derivative drivel all just fall right out of us.
When midwestern skies reflect the roads that run beneath,
find me out on the water spitting
little streams through my two front teeth.
And I'm halfway between nearly home and almost there.
You could spend a decade,
spend a life just trying to get somewhere (else).
You're such a strange familiar.
A part of speech I can't define.
A pattern I can't quite place.
Pick any point and I'll get there.
Let my location locate me.
I'll locate me.
So tunnel straight down past the foundations of former homes.
Let knowing hearts pound to the beat of the turn signal metronome.
And rest cause you've earned it.
Every perfect flaw out there on display.
In our alchemy hour, we will not wash away.
In our golden hour, we will not wash away.
Exhaling smoke between breaking waves.
Slight pain in my chest.
Heavy with hunger and hope for days
spent so content in attempts to document it.
I could never get it all down.
The summer found me barefoot in a public bathroom,
scraping salt from my skin in whispered half-truths like "
I don't think about you except when
I want to and sometimes when I don't."
So let the dishes pile up in the sink.
Let those collections collect dust.
Let that distracted, derivative drivel all just fall right out of us.
When midwestern skies reflect the roads that run beneath,
find me out on the water spitting
little streams through my two front teeth.
And I'm halfway between nearly home and almost there.
You could spend a decade,
spend a life just trying to get somewhere (else).
You're such a strange familiar.
A part of speech I can't define.
A pattern I can't quite place.
Pick any point and I'll get there.
Let my location locate me.
I'll locate me.
So tunnel straight down past the foundations of former homes.
Let knowing hearts pound to the beat of the turn signal metronome.
And rest cause you've earned it.
Every perfect flaw out there on display.
In our alchemy hour, we will not wash away.
In our golden hour, we will not wash away.
Credits
Writer(s): Maxwell Andrew Stern
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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