Wish I could write songs about anything other than death
D G
I can't go to bed without drawing the red, shaving off breaths;
E7 A7
Each one so heavy, each one so cumbersome
G
Each one a lead weight hanging between my lungs
D
Spilling my guts
G
Sweat on a microphone, breaking my voice
D
Whenever I'm alone with you, can't talk but
G
"Isn't this weather nice? Are you okay?”
D A7
Should I go somewhere else and hide my face?
E7 G
A sprinter learning to wait
G D G
A marathon runner, my ankles are sprained
G D
A marathon runner, my ankles are sprained