i make a bad adult, i was a shitty kid
spent every summer day sleeping away
and i guess i never grew out of it
your mom smoked cigarettes, watched the garden grow
nictoine and alcohol peeled the paint from walls
where she spent her last five years alone
i'm lying through my teeth, but praying on my knees
warm from the ash and broken glass
let the interstate lull me to sleep
'cause you were going on about how this is all tongue in cheek
but i thought it felt fine, like you were mine
with my hands pressed tight against your jeans
we could go on sleeping until the earth swallows our spines
i know it's not much, but for the first time in months
tonight i'm feeling kind of all right
the cold, crisp metal- i know it's going to make me real sick
if anything, here's to hoping
that ring rusts straight through your pretty lips
credits
from The Worst Demos,
released September 17, 2017
David Bolema recorded this
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