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Stained glass.
I wish that I could say that it won't last.
Idle hands.
The devils cup.
I would lie but you won't believe.
Nostalgia will not kill the best of me.
I'm thinking out loud again, shame on me.
Let's keep it cool.
Let's not complicate it.
I never really lost my innocence but
She quickly got rid of me.

My answer is still, "no."
Would you give it up,
Would you let it go?
All the places that I can hide
Are growing smaller every time.

Your sad songs understand all my words are gone.
They put my hands to the plow and we move along.
Silence is a native word
Balanced upon my tongue where life and death occur.
Silence will keep your feet planted upon the ground.
Simply complicated.

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