Mixtape
Who will hold your hand now?
I saw you smoking a red cigarette
Against a violent sun throbbing loose in your way
It's an infection with a measure of awkward grace
Writing on your arm Everything will be Okay
The truth is a lonely spell
but it doesn't know how to spell your name
Wave a good-hi at me till death do us party
You gave up meat to be like me
We cut each other's hair
Sometimes I slapped your face
and you said it was fair
Now your blood she cuts my knife,
We wait for the sun to collide
with the blue hour of the twilight
Oh my god I never ask why
Oh my god I never ask why
Who will hold your hand now?
Who will rewind your tape now?
Oh my god I never ask why
Why should you watch the world and chain the sky?