Trees stand above life, above land
where we can't amuse ourselves anymore.
This time, I'm trying so hard not to be
but as the leaves migrate - so do I.
Summer turns to fall and I collapse.
I scream to the branches that fall above my head -
"Cathartic! Throw out my insides!"
And devotion was a lonely girl standing by herself
on the edge of 2A.
As the cars passed by she weeped sweet insecurities
of herself and those around her.
The changes we make and the choices that stray
I can see it now.
Next to a glistening lake on a mountain
I'll see the reflection of a boy I once knew.
His name is solace.
Oh god, he can hardly breathe.
He knows how we turned out and he knows
how little time we have left.
He's looking to his best friend
and he's holding him tight -
"Oh companion, oh my brother,
I'm ready for anything but this."
A child comes running across the grass,
his arms spread like heaven's roof top.
I'm stranded behind that thin glass wall
where I can see his breath paint clouds of circles.
He's so beautiful and so young
and has so little to think about.
What I would give to be in his shoes again.
He's so naive and so young
and has so little to worry about.
What I would give to be in his life again.
Tainting the blessed rights to purge around
the streets of this small New England town.
I've seen it grow over the last twelve years
from a solemn nobody to a box of chocolates.
I've seen the swift change of seasons,
when autumn breaks and shatters the clouds
for a winter wind to fish the sky.
Dreaming in the brisk air lies a sunset that
none of us have yet to behold.
And in that sunset we grow tired, we grow old
and weary of the past and cold and eery of the future.
The solution is rounding the bend
so we don't have to chase it any further.
Here's to the nights we'll spend drinking
hot chocolate in the snow covered cobblestone.
Here's to the mornings we'll spend driving
150 miles to catch a breath of purity.
Here's to the days we'll spend crying
at the mere fact that this is the end.
Parting farewells to those you've loved for the last
When the fog drowns out the eyes of your comrades
you'll be standing with a lone state of mind
that never has felt quite that same way before.
And when you're facing the open atmosphere
you will feel a burning in your heart
that screams out the better of days.
"I remember the streams that flow
through a New Hampshire skyline.
I still feel the way the ocean calls your name
under the glow of an illuminant moon.
I see the shadows in the corridors of what awaits -
and I'm terrified."
That brings us to now.
A time where goodbye gunshot wounds ring out
a backfire echo of hopeless wishing.
Anthems unload into our voices
as we sing the songs of our youth.
And it goes a little something like this.