Closure
I can feel the end of the life we're used to
Aimless drives, the wind cuts through our eyes
The fun's over; sing sweet sorrow to my good youth
Blurred nostalgia means it's true: we filled our lungs with pretty laughs and cliches
Said goodbye to the nights that seemed endless,
Filled with cheap drinks and stress, that kept me hung on every word we said
Oh how can I forget 6am conversations?
We trade our hopes and fears 'til the sun comes up
The fun's over; sing sweet sorrow to my good youth
Blurred nostalgia means it's true: we filled our lungs with pretty laughs and cliches
Said goodbye to the nights that seemed endless, filled with cheap drinks and stress
That kept me hung on every word we said
I feel it coming in my head, spreads through our hands and pulls us in
I feel it coming in my head; I'm not ready for the end
I feel it coming in my head, spreads through our hands and pulls us in
I feel it coming in my head; I'm not ready for the end
Take me back to nights we broke onto our buildings
The fake-city view was enough for me
The fun's over; sing sweet sorrow to my good youth
Blurred nostalgia means it's true: we filled our lungs with pretty laughs and cliches
Said goodbye to the nights that seemed endless, filled with cheap drinks and stress
That kept me hung on every word
I can feel the end
Aimless drives, the wind cuts through our eyes
The fun's over; sing sweet sorrow to my good youth
Blurred nostalgia means it's true: we filled our lungs with pretty laughs and cliches
Said goodbye to the nights that seemed endless,
Filled with cheap drinks and stress, that kept me hung on every word we said
Oh how can I forget 6am conversations?
We trade our hopes and fears 'til the sun comes up
The fun's over; sing sweet sorrow to my good youth
Blurred nostalgia means it's true: we filled our lungs with pretty laughs and cliches
Said goodbye to the nights that seemed endless, filled with cheap drinks and stress
That kept me hung on every word we said
I feel it coming in my head, spreads through our hands and pulls us in
I feel it coming in my head; I'm not ready for the end
I feel it coming in my head, spreads through our hands and pulls us in
I feel it coming in my head; I'm not ready for the end
Take me back to nights we broke onto our buildings
The fake-city view was enough for me
The fun's over; sing sweet sorrow to my good youth
Blurred nostalgia means it's true: we filled our lungs with pretty laughs and cliches
Said goodbye to the nights that seemed endless, filled with cheap drinks and stress
That kept me hung on every word
I can feel the end
Credits
Writer(s): Chace Petinelli
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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