we sketch out maps on eachothers hips;
an easier way to get from A to B.
but it's harder to write a letter illegibly
in a language you understand.
so i travel the world, learn your tongues
and do my best to unfurl your thoughts
and i figure out that's useless.
the glaciers are moving and the sun wont stop shining
while her annoying army stands.
i end up crying wolf,
cause i can't stop to interrupt the weather.
it's not like i did anything wrong
and now that you're gone
i don't have to worry
about moving on
Yeah, i'm moving on.
we ride on the weather with no parachutes
and we end up here in brooklyn, too.
with picket lines of fences
people carried their defences
in the form of words.
so we end up down as our hands go up
and we spend the night trying to score a buck
cause we're so damn tired
and we're so damn cold
and we're so damn sick of the secrets told.