Well I’ve watched some of my best friends
All consumed by loneliness, oh yeah
I think there is a madness we have yet to comprehend
With our raggedy memories
All nostalgic and dead
There are these funerals in my head
That I never attend

And I’ll admit we all at one time
Have felt burned, calloused or cruel
I wrote my poetry on letterheads
Are of platonic odes for fools
To escape my many flaws
I thought this was all part of the plan
There are these binary stains that ain’t gonna rub off
All over my hands

Oh though please don’t worry about us
Because we’ll only wear you down
La la, la la
I’ve buried my brain in every poet’s paper grave
But I just found
More to figure out
And there is only one library in this town

It might be something precious
Or it’s pretty much violence
That keeps the sun in the air
That keeps it coming up for us
When we might as well explode

Lyrics submitted by deliciousbiscuit

Letterheads (demo) song meanings
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