Offseason

After they cut us short,
You brought us to Allston to play one.
Out in the parking lot,
Me and jackson split cigarettes shaking.
Heard you come in and come out,
So i'm soaking up all of your melodies.
Walk out with no goodbyes,
And fade out with slow divides,
So i hope this is a singalong,
Hope we get drunk and play this in your living room,
Hope we got shows to do,
And I hope you think about me the same way I think about you.

Hold on.
Meet me at the top of the stairs when it's over.
You won.
Meet me at the top of the hill when we're older.
You're half in, well,
This is the part you've been waiting for.
You're half out, well,
This is the part you've been digging for.

It's happening again,
An emptier bed,
An emptier nest than you thought you could handle.
Youre derelict, feel the sick frequencies bounce
Around and echo through the hallway.

But there's smoke in your lungs,
His taste on your tongue,
And shadows of a song that got caught in your memory.
Wade in it, start again, tie yourself to melodies,
And drift off with the ghost of your love.

You're afraid. That's okay
Your head's in all the right places.
Celebrate, then separate.
I can't take it.

I was left alone again,
Our sequence still sequencing.
If motions imply it's a comeback,
I'll follow the frequency.



Credits
Writer(s): Bryn Nieboer, Chris Johns, Chris Lawless, Vishnu Anantha
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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