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作曲 : Cameron Smith |
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I've been counting the waves on the wall in my room |
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Too soon to view what's left of you |
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It's not because I'm bored, of course |
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It's because I don't know what to do |
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So, maybe framing myself every time I feel attacked |
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Only lasted long enough for me to want the good times to come back |
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And love is only a beautiful image when it's sitting in the trash |
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Or maybe dwelling on the negative only negates the rest |
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Or cheating death is not the same as cheating on a test |
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And the only right seed that can put a bullet in my chest |
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Possibly too self-righteous to even slightly suggest |
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There's a presence in these walls and my flaws can entirely attest |
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I know it's easy to look at someone who's crazy and not know what to do |
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But if you didn't have something this vital and you wanted it, I promise, you'd be crazy too |
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'Cause the world sometimes feels like it's not a safe place |
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Like you're forced to be born and then told you're gonna die someday |
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Or maybe the lights were left on, but God has moved on |
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And walked into the kitchen nook to book himself another three-night stay |
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No, Jesus, forgive me, I don't know where to go from here |
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Losing someone I love out of death and then losing myself out of fear |
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To all the people relying on a miracle who are still miraculously here |
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There's no way you don't matter because your family is here |
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So, bury a light so someone else can dig it up |
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It's enough just to know |
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I can barely handle this love |
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Bury a light so you won't have to cling onto your past |
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Just a dash and a splash more to mix in until you never have to drink it again |
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And you can always come back |
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I got a text message from a friend |
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He said his mother was dead |
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He said, "She still said we could drop the crystal meth off in Calexico and grab a bite to eat in El Centro, head down to Blythe and smoke a pack of cigarettes until we're left with nothing but crushes and menthols" |
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And then she said, "I'm sorry, but that's just how this spiral goes" |
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But I want to tell you, there's nothing poetic in craving death |
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There's nothing beautiful about wanting to die |
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But there's something beautiful about having those thoughts |
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Honoring them |
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Recognizing that you're better than them |
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And then choosing life instead |
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Because I promise, you're worth having here |
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Because your perspective is something only you possess |
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And that's beautiful |
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It adds a flavor to this world that we wouldn't have otherwise |
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So I'm telling you now, it's vital that you stay alive |
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Yeah, you |
