elizabeth cole

So long was our battle cry as we spilled into the streets
Fuck those people and their children, how our mood was once so sweet
And we cold called our mothers while we waited for the train
But for Cleveland he sat silent, no cell service from the grave

Now, there were fourteen stops to Prenzlau and our worries in the back
We had books inside our pockets, and the princely gift of gab
There were women on verandas whom we'd never come to know
Garnered onto the seat backs and your fears laughed at our hopes

Off to the right that dawns arrive, to the left coat-tails of night
We were young and brash, we didn't even speak the language
In our past were useless memories, good for nothing but to spite
And the ride was short and painless

And we show the cost of living mild, stealing every heart
Behind your former middle school on every ides of March
And while they'd have you think the glory days are everyone's but ours
I assure you, I assure you, I implore you that they are not
I assure you, I assure you, I implore you that they aren't