歌词
Maybe they'll show up later, knocking down the door
Burning out your name
Even if they had a radar, they'd still drift right off course
Wandering through the waves
There's a whole lot of nothing wrong with a whole lot of love
There's a whole lot of something wrong with us
Made as we were catastrophic, artistry
Secondhand scars, empathetic poetry
You're still from shock scared to breathe
Held it tighter than you would need
You cut me down
You cut me down
Yet, there's still nothing left to see
Maybe we'll show up later, in some awful history books
Forgotten like the frame
Even if you wrote a letter, rolled it tied it up
It'd never be the same