I'm trying to leave my marks, but I've found that my marker's run dry.
Ideas aren't coming, I feel I've hung myself too high.
Caught on an airplane where strangers are straining their necks.
They're safe in the cabin, I know that my life is the wreck.
My mouth is still moving
Your gaze stays the same
My words are all but soothing
Your figure is lost in the rain.
I'm sitting in the dark with a dark, painful bruise on my chest.
The pain is just proving my judgement is under arrest.
Take your harsh words, and I'll walk myself out of your door.
This should be familiar, I know that you've seen this before.
My mouth is still moving
Your gaze stays the same
My words are all but soothing
Your figure is lost in the rain.
credits
from The Woodpile - EP,
released December 8, 2015
Written and performed by Evan Gwin
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