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de Chris Cresswell

When I catch a break
I'll bring it home to you
You can take the sharpest blade and cut off this here noose
When my arms won't work
When my eyes fall out
I won't have a single thing to piss and moan about
There'll always be you

You and all your friends
And how they each deserted you
Or did you desert them?
I don't wanna talk about it
I'll just sing a hundred songs
For someone who doesn't deserve a thing
When all this snow melts

I won't have a dream I can latch my fingers to
But I will finally be removed from the words
The sound of these dead streets
The mirror images of home I always thought I'd breathe
The sun is coming up
I'm fighting gravity

It seems there's always something new
But someone always leaves
The strength to sort this out may not be in me
But I'll surround myself with open arms and smiling teeth

I am losing grip rapidly
I am coming down

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