Letters, Unsent

To the girl who thinks I don't want her, who won't let me explain
The stories he shovels you are close to insane
Evenings I could wander, invisible to both of you
I tried but some little thing was always missing
Eternally non-maternally mine
Huddled in your favourite duffle, pushing me out of your bubble
And, to Tosh collecting your trinkets, who saw value in me
My undandy vigilante
The anti-hero trapped deep in thought
You might float high above us all
But grand ideas and kind gestures never made you a better man
I took one look at your steel grey Nova
No room on the back seat to lay me down gently
Stuff and things in threes
Sheets and waves of papers crashing
To me you looked like drowning
If anyone needed saving, it was you



Credits
Writer(s): Aaron Woodier
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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