It's snowing on a Monday as I am driving home.
And the guilt begins to creep up from the ones I've left alone.
And on this road their bodies still hang up in the air
Between the birch's branches where I last left them there.
There are palm prints on my window from her hands out in the cold.
Now four years have gone by here and I have gotten old.
And you said yourself that I'm falling towards the sun.
Like I disguise myself to make you forget I'm the one.
Like this was just a trap I built and you are just a game I won.
But I don't want to run.
I remember counting white beads as I sat in wooden pews,
Where I laid down my confessions.
And I said a prayer for you because it's harder in December.
And it's harder in the cold.
And it's hard not to remember all the lies that we have told late at night,
Shifting shape under florescent light.
The spray paint spelled Salvation,
But I knew you wanted more.
So I paint myself in blue light.
And I unlock all the doors because the city's getting smaller.
And I don't know where to go.
And I spent my only dollar hoping maybe you would know.