Waiting for Enoch Arden
to suffer for love and try to forgive
the awfulness that follows from it
with the sirens of doubt still sounding off loud
send warnings out to the panicking crowd
who will run to their homes and bury themselves
in a frozen life that no summer can melt
where they live way too long and they never forget
the tortured face of the one who gets left.
we could tell
we got home
and it can't ever be the same
and it won't ever be the same
so we try to focus on those few bright moments.
but as for me, i guess i'm different.
i never felt that need to live.
these tangled veins constrict to hold
the fears flow through them.
useless pride just leaves me nervous.
i got all this time but still no purpose for anything.
'cause he could've stayed, but he didn't want to.
i never said i'd die for love.
i never said i'd die for love.
i never said i'd die for love
but i would.
this ruthless day slowly repeating
so stagnant truth can lose its meaning after a while
if there's nothing left to keep you breathing.
restless breath keeps me reacting
to turn it off seems so attracting.
just disappear.
because i tried to stay, but i couldn't help it.
we could tell
we got home
and it will never be the same
it can never be the same.
and we it call it progress, such perfect moments
that are based on this tonight
drown my confidence
do not sit here waiting for the years to swallow us.
i'll just go.