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[Verse 1:] |
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He offered her the world, but came up short |
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The nastiest of storms made him settle on a city with a port |
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He watched ships sail by in the middle of July |
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He wrote notes on paper boats, sat and waited for replies |
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Hope floats, even when it's on fire |
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Especially when it's on fire, but the smoke makes him tired |
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Took a blade to the chest like he was opening a body bag |
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"Sir he's still alive in there" well Christ then, remove the tag |
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What's it say? It says "Fold along the lines |
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And set me free," not on fire, cause oftentimes |
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When I set myself free, this empty |
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Bag of a body tends to get burned in effigy |
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I've lost the energy to fight off the flames |
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I blow it off like it's all just a game, all the same |
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Wish he wouldn't write himself out of the picture |
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It's a beautiful lotion that you got |
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When there's someone there to share it with you |
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This is why she can't have nice things |
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He was too caught up in work to sign for the nice deliveries that life brings |
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Now he can't tell if he's dead or not |
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He said, "I bet I am, and I can prove it." She said "you better not" |
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This is why she can't have nice things |
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Because talk is cheap and it was poor communication |
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[Hook:] |
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All he wanted to say, on the dock that day |
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Was "I love you, and I'm sorry," but instead, he just waved |
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Good bye, and he cried, love |
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So much he watched the waters rise up |
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It must have been a changing of the tides, but I've come to assume |
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It was the changing of a mind, once upon a blood moon |
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[Verse 2:] |
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They skimmed rocks for the whole day |
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He imagined he was throwin' rotten parts of himself that broke away |
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So he couldn't stop, fascinated by the way they skip up top |
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Give up and then drop, he sank with them |
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They convened on the rock bottom and made a decision |
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They could never raise children, not like this |
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Not like people who make babies on purpose |
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That's when he came to the surface, fully intending |
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To be so strong in his resolve, 'til all of it dissolves |
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Slippin' through his pruny fingers like this could've been ours |
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But this is to the offers that can't be followed through with |
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The water works, the leaky faucet still lost fluids |
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To the current of the stream that'll always push you from me |
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To the reoccurring dream that makes reality less ugly |
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In a picturesque setting, where the world looks airbrushed |
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Needless to say, words failed us |
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[Hook:] |
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On the dock that day, all I wanted to say |
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Was "I love you, and I'm sorry," but instead, I just waved |
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Good bye, and I cried, love |
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So much I watched the waters rise up |
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It must have been a changing of the tides, that was breaking up our lives |
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It was a water raged wrinkling time |
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[Verse 3:] |
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Yessir, minds are made for the changing, but mine's been deterioratin' |
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Like the bluffs in the shoreline, where I've been waitin' too exhale |
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Since the summer when we watched every last one of our friends set sail |
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And I was the only livin' boy left in Providence |
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Collecting death certificates from the rest of my documents |
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Just for origami purposes, I gave 'em to the ocean |
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But hey, look at me, I'm great at foldin' |
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Guess I'll just do this the rest of my life |
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It's got to do with lots of lovin', and it ain't nothin' nice |
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[Outro x2:] |
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This is why she can't have nice things |
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He was too caught up in work to sign for the nice deliveries that life brings |
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This is why she can't have nice things |
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Because talk is cheap and it was poor communication |
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This is why she can't have nice things |
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He set fire to the paper boat sonatas he's been writin' |
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And this is why, I assume the moon's bleeding |
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And why there wasn't any blood left in the rock he was squeezing |
