Art-Academia-Excelsior

Talkin' rings and talkin' cradles…

I wish I could un-recall,

how we almost had it all.

Dancing phantoms on the terrace,

Are they second-hand embarrassed?

That I can't get out of bed,

I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me,

You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs,

I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

That I'll sue you if you step on my lawn.

That I'm fearsome, and I'm wretched, and I'm wrong.

You caged me, and then you called me crazy.

or mad,

I’m having his baby —

— No, I’m not —

I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist,

I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift,

Pulled him in tighter each time he was driftin' away…

My spine split from carrying us up the hill,

Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill,

I stopped tryna make him laugh, stopped tryna drill the safe…

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out.

I founded the club she's heard great things about.

I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath.

I stopped CPR, after all, it's no use…

The spirit was gone, we would never come to.

And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free…

— For, so long, London — Stitches undone — Two graves, one gun — I’ll find someone —

And you say I abandoned the ship, but I was going down with it…

My white-knuckle dying grip, holding tight to your quiet resentment.

And my friends said it isn't right to be scared…

Every day of a love affair —

Every breath feels like rarest air —

When you’re not sure if he wants to be there…

You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waitin' for the proof.

You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days…

And I'm just getting color back into my face…

I'm just mad as hell 'cause I loved this place…

For: so long, London,

Had a good run…

Encounters closer and closer,

All your indecent exposures…

I'd play again.

He was my best friend down at the sandlot.

I felt more when we played pretend,

Than with all the Kens.

'Cause he took me out of my box,

Stole my tortured heart,

Left all these broken parts,

Told me l'm better off…

But I'm not…

I'm not,

you take my ring off my middle finger,

and put it on the one

people put wedding rings on;