The state we are in
Fickle fortune
The silence in the kitchen
Made you a prophet
Here is another lost key
Dissolved in the backseat
I would like you to tell me
It'll kill me
Give me a break
From what forged me
Salt on her cheeks
Left mold in my body
There are no other cars
At the dusk
As we stare at nothing
Tell me
Tell me what's left inside me
In this slumber
Let me
Let me be
Only in her arms
Tell me
The room is amber
There must be no way out
Let me
Let me be
Far from such a borrowed fear
Passing by the blurred sights
Dimming streetlights
And a shortsighted prayer
A rounded stone down in the gutter
She just said"it might get better next September"
When it's about to rot
I found god lying on the floor
There are no other cars at dusk
On the lane to nothing
Overnight
I'll forget
All the things that
Must have left
Inside of my skull
It outgrew
A plea I once knew
The state we are in
Fickle fortune
Don't stay here for good
Said the prophet
I would like you tell me
It'll kill me
Tell me
Tell me what's left inside me
In the morning
Let me
Let me be
Only in her arms
Tell me
The room is amber
We are running out of time
Let me
Let me be
Far from such a borrowed fear
