Typewriter, tell me what year it was
Tapping to the rhythm of a century on the cusp
We were writers smoking on the sidewalks
We were lovers drinking to another song on the jukebox
Don't kill all the beautiful things
I was searching for truth in the dust of my days
I was so lost and I was so young
Cinematic, I was cynical on the city bus
Literary, wrote lyrics like I thought I was
We were sleeping racing for the future
Bicycle tires spinning revolution
Don't kill all the beautiful things
I was searching for truth in the dust of my days
I was so lost and I was so young
The city was sweating in the summer heat
I wrote melodies of regret to a deaf and empty street
I was so lonely it started to rain
The lightning and thunder were singing my name
I thought those songs could save me
Don't kill all the beautiful things
I was searching for truth in the dust of my days
I was so lost and I was so young
We were so lost and we were so young