These syllables won’t bring you back, won’t stitch the holes, no bones intact.
I like the sweet life and the silence but it’s the storm that I believe in.
All I want to do and all I want to grow up to be is all caught up in you. Look what you’re doing to me.
Palest skin I throw myself in, count me as your friend, you don’t scare me, man you’ve got to know I’ll be here tomorrow.
Surviving isn’t everything; I’d rather drown than not dive in.
