I stare into acrylic fields with little sketched out men, painted by my own blood, perhaps by my own
hand, and I'll think to myself, “I don't love any of this.” Dig a ditch, make a grave, carve a stone, write
your name. I am not the kid you think you met under the stars, freezing to death. When you're drunk,
here's to luck, here's to luck. You ask it yourself, exagerating the difference between knowing and
believing, it's as far as from you to me, it's as far as the places I can't reach. And if your mind is
anything like a church, with walls so familiar, a lack of faith could hurt, but I'm gonna, I'm gonna burn.
Vocals/Kayla, Acoustic Guitar/Ethan, Lead Guitar/Jeremy, Bass/Jeremy, Piano/Kayla, Drums/AJ.
Lyrics written by Ethan. Song written by Greyfield.
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