Exeunt

An ending in the air
Untouched by a word, but tangibly there
I guess I don't mind

His making-light makes lines
Makes lovely his eyes with crow-footed corners
You know I think I might mind

Sweet thing
I know you don't mean it
Can't you see we're bleeding
Needing something sure to have and hold
When promises fold

A hope beyond our means
Little cause left to keep it around
Tell me what's on your mind

An apathy obscene
Burst our banks and we were hard up for caring
I think I'm losing my mind

Sweet thing
I know you don't mean it
Can't you see we're bleeding
Needing something sure to have and hold
When promises fold

So take off your mask
You know it's getting old
We'll outlast the past
So let your promise fold

When promises fold
When promises fold



Credits
Writer(s): Anna Ransom
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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