Tonight's attitudes all seem to fit the occasion
Most occasions are plain
But now you have a well designed attack
By dividing what you say with your eyes with what you say
In the end we know there will be no words to indicate who we were tonight.
How even my blood hurts to see you go,
And hangs on to my heart while you're still here.
Reluctantly letting memory burn,
And reluctantly allowing even a modest pulse through.
First we will suffer real despair,
Then a willing decline down to where we're darkest.
Where we both know certain things.
It could all be inevitable.
Or just that some things fail on first attempts.
But attempts are never final.
There are only final results in economy.
And final results in waste.
And final results in patience.
And final results in work.
The rest is unknown.
I've never aimed at the future,
Or tried to evoke truth or direction out of what i had.
But now, i know.
There will be distance.
Wonder what can that mean, there will be distance.
And is it cold there?
Is it chronic?
Or will anxiety have some role?
And will they all need introductions?
Distance meet anxiety, anxiety meet the cold.
The thing is still, that you will be gone.
And i will have to leave the lights on
So you can see to go.
Wonder what that could mean
There will be distance
Distance meet anxiety
Anxiety meet the cold
Distance meet anxiety
Anxiety meet the cold
The thing is still you will be gone
And i'll have to leave the lights on
So you can see to go
Writer(s): Jason Molina
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