All Printed Trash
Pick beneath your nails
Bite and eat your cuticles
The fraying ends of your skin
The scattered proof you're nervous
The purr gets louder every minute
It sizzles in your stomach
The fear I've felt this all before
You're tired of the tour
Of my stations of anxieties
Long silences and lost pieties
The world keeps turning
This hourglass we're living
Feels more like a desert when you're living in it
Standing in line for the train to the airport
I can only wonder what you're scared for
If I leave, I hope I can come back
That there is no permanent lack
Of love on account of choices
This hourglass we're living
Feels more like a desert when you're living in it
This hourglass we're living
Feels more like a desert when you're living in it
I don't want to feel consequence
We don't have any kids
We only share a few friends
And I can afford to lose them
And then maybe my hands can get handsome again
And I can tame my wild skin
And then these stubby fingers
Can write you a letter
A chicken-scratch story you've already told better.
Standing in line for the train to the airport
I can only wonder what you're scared for
If I leave, I hope I can come back
That there is no permanent lack
Of love on account of choices
I hope I can come back
I hope I can come back
I hope I can come back
I hope I can come back
Bite and eat your cuticles
The fraying ends of your skin
The scattered proof you're nervous
The purr gets louder every minute
It sizzles in your stomach
The fear I've felt this all before
You're tired of the tour
Of my stations of anxieties
Long silences and lost pieties
The world keeps turning
This hourglass we're living
Feels more like a desert when you're living in it
Standing in line for the train to the airport
I can only wonder what you're scared for
If I leave, I hope I can come back
That there is no permanent lack
Of love on account of choices
This hourglass we're living
Feels more like a desert when you're living in it
This hourglass we're living
Feels more like a desert when you're living in it
I don't want to feel consequence
We don't have any kids
We only share a few friends
And I can afford to lose them
And then maybe my hands can get handsome again
And I can tame my wild skin
And then these stubby fingers
Can write you a letter
A chicken-scratch story you've already told better.
Standing in line for the train to the airport
I can only wonder what you're scared for
If I leave, I hope I can come back
That there is no permanent lack
Of love on account of choices
I hope I can come back
I hope I can come back
I hope I can come back
I hope I can come back
Credits
Writer(s): Sean Fitzpatrick
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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