The Raw And Searing Flesh - The Lawrence Arms

i never want to see you

in the raw and searing flesh

i don’t ever want to hear you

singing softly to the dead

i never want to feel your skin

running warm along my side

i don’t ever want to sink that way again

it would be easier to die

to die

i’m tending the parts of my frustrations

burning leaves on buried dreams

kneeling in to rake the ashes

i’m in the rain, it’s colder out

my hands are free,

my lungs are proud

your forgivness is a failing fiction

your forgivness is a failing fiction

these flames have never burned so high

i won’t be starting in your eyes

i’m trying hard to remember

the way the smoke drifts through the air

we’ll all be dead come november

four months out of every year

every year

(every year)

i won’t be staring in your eyes

every year