Take it back, take it back, oh please god take it back before the puddles turn to pools and the pools: a sea engulfing souls. With every single drop come three more burdens. You say it's distant. I say it's distant! Your hand approaches and as always it is wrapped in yarn reminding me of weekends past when Abby sang along "Ken you've got it all wrong, this is big this is real like a clocktower's minute hand only put behind the wheel. let the pedals push themselves". I'll let these pedals push themselves! I could've kissed her on a bed not parallel to, but perpendicular to everything you've taught me, all these thoughts (unsound) and the idea of infinity. It this is all never-ending then why am I ending? Born again, reminded, that there's the earth. Doorway scene makes time for peace in a nearby ravine. Wake up dead, the pine trees sing: "leave home". Can't hear the sound made by the yarn, can't hear the blood flow through your arm, can't hear anything at all. It seems these anythings are all the kind that believe reflections aren't the mobile ones that win, win, win, they win, win, win and run! How they run away, for it is march sixth two thousand and nine, I'm meeting the god I never knew, the god that i said never knew me. Born again, reminded pine takes away a yearn for comfort, growth is doubled (as if it were a child), calms down. Can't hear the sound made by the yarn, can't hear the blood flow through your arm, can't hear anything at all It seems these anythings are all the kind that believe reflections aren't the mobile ones that see, see, see, they see, see, see it all! How I'll run away from it all. The books sprout wings to forget about the clutches of this scene: broken bottles in the streets cutting at the meek. Tell them of your progress, your golden painted headdress, the way you told her "you're just not yet old enough for it all". Leave home like third grade students and their backpacks , running towards some small escape. I'm running towards the exit of a university. Don't look back, don't look back, don't look back, but I have to because it's all I really want to do: dance and bathe with the same intent as the songs we spoke about. To find myself giving in would ruin it, the act of preservation is acting nonetheless. I'll take my time, maybe follow through, find these pine trees singing to some different sort of tune. Sometimes when I'm laying there atop my treefort bed (imagination flowing through the comforter)__There are so many different sentences trying to get produced. We'll lose our mobility before we figure out its use. Sometimes when I'm laying there atop my treefort bed (imagination flowing through) I start to think again and again that I can't do this anymore (watch the world just sit and grieve). Keep meeting gods I don't know.
Lyrics submitted by Aniland