coffeewhiskey

I'm walking home, home to you
the turn is a curl in my ash
the cigarette always, in doubt, burns too fast
and maybe i just like the burn
because maybe I just like to be hurt

my throats turning, like your arguments
the crass arguments, when your throat cracks
and I love you more, when you fight the pain
when you hate all the hopeful rain
I know we call it a thousand tears
you keep calling it rain

that slow piano, we call that doubt
and the whole scene is about to float
in cheap stage fright, with hearts as props
it runs your cheek, it runs more and more
the tyranny of tears make your nose rub sore
and a million deserts will die in your place
if you decide to, right now, walk away

these curtains keep closing in dry cries
when curling breaking heights, are aggravating chords
this film is too tired, boys raised on happy endings are crying
I'll topple and fall, sing, sing sing ties in fights
with fists fighting the rain, righteous, righteous,
nothing is left to lose or to gain, I am hope
and I am insane.