Up above you darling (past the line, between the land), I'll call you from Vancouver
Just staring @ your picture till it's all that I can stand. This dream's a lil narrow, so
I'm sticking to my guns while the wake-up calls keep coming (though sometimes, dearie
Lord the thought of another one)

Are you shaking? Are you sleeping? Yet, another weepy lil rager drowned down to the ring
It's hard a moon to swallow. You're drunk or you're dead under this swollen
Swampy sky; when the thought of one more broken night is more than some'll ever shed