The Useless Pages at the End of the Journal

And if you leave early enough they don't follow you to the station
From a certain age you start waiting for the problems at home

Brother, can you recall the last time you breathed
Like it wasn't the last time?

These are the useless pages at the end of the journal
Where I hastily scribbled some nonsense in lieu of an ending as I went

Now as they are fast approaching
Weird how it seems a fitting close
What lacks roots always rots
And I write notes on snow

As silence moves downstairs to welcome in the air
Rushing in there are windows in my room
As I close the door behind me and leave
Where you'd often forget the noises you keep
From this angle it looks so much like itself
I can hardly believe it's here



Credits
Writer(s): Will Wasem
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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