Rediscovering my love for Bright Eyes again.
Sometimes it's the furthest thing from the truth.
Most times it's everything I know to be true
and it affects me in a very disconcerting way.
Like this:
So I'm drinking, breathing, writing, singing
Everyday I'm on the clock
My mind races with all my longings
But cant keep up with what I got
Can't think of anything that describes me better at this point.
It's so true it hurts.
And I can't imagine where I'd be if I didn't know someone else had been there, too.
The sun came up with no conclusion,
Flowers sleeping in their beds.
This city's cemetery's humming,
I'm wide awake, it's morning.
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