Tawny

Your place in the sun
That shitty apartment where your friends are
That space you can run
To rather than address the test to your rot

A place in the ground
Plywood casket next to loved ones
That space that you're found
Bloated off-white blue in two feet of mud

A tawny pale glow
Headlights in a ditch below
AM on route 32
Guard rails in the shape of bloom

Now here's some bad news
When you're pressed, your friends peel off from you
Add some sad news
When you're pressed, your friends catch a case of self-interest

Your building burns in the distance
Your loved ones arrive
To watch from the hoods of their cars
They lower the radio to listen to you die

Your lonely gravesite
Nobody visits in the daylight
For fear your name might
Expose what we already know about those
Sons of bitches who only tell but never show

A tawny pale glow
Headlights in a ditch below
AM on route 32
Guard rails in the shape of bloom

When they come for the show
The headlines read like a joke

Let's laugh ourselves to death
I still find it funny
Let's laugh ourselves to death
I can't help myself and I won't try



Credits
Writer(s): Christopher David Villeneuve, Cory Andrew Galusha, Nicholas John Cogan, Patrick James Wynne, Patrick Russell Kindlon
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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