The Lawrence Arms
A Wishful Puppeteer
I haven't seen you since that Brooklyn night
I guess it's been about a year by now
Cold and rainy, in a poet's words
Dark and crimson in a drunken way
I was frozen in a windowpane
Kind of like I was on a movie screen
Your hair was darker than I remembered it
I was as awkward as I could have been
So much has changed, it seems nothing ever changes
I found a way to wear a thousand different faces
Time creeps into my dreams
Breathe deep, fill your lungs with me
Headaches, stalemates
Chest pains, I'm trembling
Ink stains, text to burn
Am I leaving, am I leaving?
I found your face in my dreams the last two nights
What are you doing here? What am I singing for?
A window sitter, grown into the crutch
The crutch has always been right there for him
I'm sorry, I'm pushing her away
I'm dark and crimson in a drunken sway
So much has changed, it seems nothing ever changes