I should have told You before talking in terms of Forever that any given day wears me out and works me sour, that there are nights when the sky is so clear I stand obnoxious underneath it begging for the stars to shoot at me just so I can feel at Home.

If we really do get what we give then I give up, so I can get up.

You are the home I point to that lives in my chest.

Everything is out there. That's why they call it everything.

The future gets no say in who we are.

I should have told You before talking in terms of Forever that any given day wears me out and works me sour, that there are nights when the sky is so clear I stand obnoxious underneath it begging for the stars to shoot at me just so I can feel at Home.

There was a typewriter buried alive in that horse, the one I road to get out of the flood.