I took that picture of you, just sitting in my room
the rain outside made tires scream at the dying afternoon
but somehow way back then our wasted time
it seemed well spent
why do we need now, its never here
it just becomes what we miss

and then the sun goes down we’ll sleep
deep
under our coats

I took your soul
like you’d never really know
but now will become just then
just like it always has

there’s always the chance of the sun
exploding
into our heads
over our beds
killing us all