1. |
Rosa Song
03:04
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We can never go home again. We'll never find the way back to how we once lived, and I just can't find a reason we left. Like a stick and poke tattoo, I know I'm somewhere left inside of you just fading, blurred out
and fading. That house felt like a Rosa song. Can we still be those hitched up kids you know? I sure hope so. Are we more than the sum of our broken parts, or are we just all a bit weaker than we show? I just don't know.
Shine headlights on the houses in the places we grew up. We'll turn around in driveways when my heart has had enough. There's strangers in the window on all the streets I know, but this whole time I've been looking every single little place I might find you. That house felt like a Rosa song that we listened to oh so long ago. Where did we go? Those lyrics burned inside my head and all the things I left unsaid, so much
you'll never know.
That house felt like a Rosa song, and these highway lines are taking me back home. There's little left but photographs; my memories are like Polaroids of ghosts.
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2. |
Darkness
01:36
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You've got a darkness in your eyes that I can't shake. You see me glancing and say that you don't wanna talk about it; I won't say a single word. Two months go by and I see you again, walking down the street with a friend of a friend. I see the scars on your arms, your legs say that you don't wanna talk about it; I don't say a single word.
Oh you never could get out of your own head. No one seemed to realize the monsters weren't under your bed. All we said was “please reach out if you've been feeling sad,” but reaching in was the only chance that we could've had.
Your mom called, said I would never see you again. Things fell apart, and you let the darkness win. I wish that I had known because I should've tried to talk about it; didn't say a single word. I wish I tried to talk about it; didn't say a single word. I never tried to talk about it; you won't say another word.
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3. |
Exactly How We Planned
01:52
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Nothing ever seems to go exactly how we planned. Ceiling's falling, bugs are crawling, mice are moving in. Frankly, I've been finding brand new ways to fall apart. Like the windows in the basement, I'm growing cracks inside my heart. I never found the easy way around all of this stress; I always try to run away and hide all by myself. I've got so many stacks of paper and books I wanna read, but I can never find the time, 'cause sadness comes too easily. So I arm myself with half smiles, make jokes about nothing, but all I'd really rather do is crawl back into bed and fall asleep and dream then wake up to something new, ignore the voices
in my head, and the things they tell me too. They say, “you'll never find your way out of any of this. 'Maybe life will slow down?,' just say it 'til you're dead.” The thoughts never go away. “You'll always be somebody's
second choice. Don't bother speaking up; they'll just ignore your voice. The thoughts never go away.
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