All these graycoated mornings pass

just like water poured on wax

you watch the sun make another lap

then fall into this gap of nothingness

where everything's prefab and everything's dead

and every little thing get's inside your

head

as you watch these graycoated mornings

pass

and it feels just like you feed on broken

glass



walking through the kitchen now

all a mess and maybe somehow

this could be like the saddest story

- the one about the redhead and her family,

choking on the things they say

like one line of good words could save the day



and summer comes

to knock me off my feet

you will be gone

but still inside of me

I'll pin your words

of sadness and grief

into my skin

now you're within



all these graycoated mornings pass

like none of this won't ever last

you're hanging in the air 'round here

like a thought that slowly disappears

and when I saw your silhouette climb the hill

from the top of the boat, my heart stood still

but I won't cry,

I wont't cry

I'm not crying;

honey, I'm dying!

honey, I'm dying...