Hearts break to the tune of violing strings, but we make sure to cover it up with the low hum of flatline conversation. It silently kills us, but it's better than facing the ginger judgement that truth gives us. I feel like maybe if I just gave a little bit more anger I could traverse the timeline wrapped around our necks and save a little bit of yesterday. It's not that I want to hold on, I just can't imaigne letting go. Join me on the dusty backroads and maybe we'll find the destination we never looked for. I don't really expect alot of companions in our reality, because it seems everybody's happy hiding under the wallpaper. But like a toddler high on recess, I won't quit. I'll whisper in the souls of free, name-brand cigarettes and maybe I'll find the •••••• bars decorating your rib cage. It's been a long time, so I don't know if your laugh can still climb them, but it's worth a shot. I know you're buried underneath this train wreck so try to hold while never forgetting yourself so I can free my hands from this yesterday and tie myself up with the moment. With my moment, your moment and the moments discarded like crumpled newspaper on Christmas Eves. It's getting pretty foggy, so I don't really know where to park. I'll just keep the car running and leave the passenger door unlocked. You know where to find me, I've always been there. And don't worry, I don't get sick of waiting. I just get this subtle, uneasy feeling around sunset when the light in the air begins to fade and is replaced by the nagging reminder that you're not coming today. Nobody's coming today so it's just another lonely lullaby in this twisted heap of metal that poets might call dissapointed.