borrowing nostalgia

This was a ballpark
This was a band pass on your Saturday
Your nearly twice that age
But you remember
Just the same

This was a free throw
This was the low pass on your
Holiday
There isn't a quick escape
A couple of embers
And a glow to stay

Well one don't preach
What one can't peep
My tongue don't reach
What words won't keep
Me up all night but
Just don't teach me
Nothing I could otherwise
Believe

Easy night
Cut from the smoking gun
So much for a chosen one
Well I'm barely having fun
Without you

So one by one
My little pieces
Of what I've done
And what I am become

And I didn't choose
To be so long ago
Something I could slip away
Nothing else I could escape



Credits
Writer(s): August Kamp
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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