You said the words I want to hear. They don't begin with the letter I. They don't include pity revisions of lies. They don't end with asking me why. It's not like the movies are.
These men down in the water they are not lost. There's poison in the arrows that come across. No you don't leave your post at any cost. There's more than just bottles washing up on the rocks.
Where you're going has no signs. And you're not going in a straight line. You ought to have me on your mind. I dare you to think otherwise. Under the water, more water.
It doesn't have to be pretty. It doesn't have to move the crowd. In no particular city. Just a clearing with little else around. It doesn't have to look steady.
We wrote our names on the last day of summer. On the insides of each other hands. With empty cans and walls of graffiti. The kind just kids understand.
No, there won't be an ambush anytime soon. If the birds are returning, it's safe enough to say that much is true. In the desert that borders between me and you.
It's a whale it's a whale where the valley once was. I can tell by her head that her tail is coming up. Long as a train taller than a bus. Must have come with the river when the levee went bust.
Some have crosses bells that ring. Most have angels painted with wings. Old men and blind ones can find their way in. Got statues and apostles and other godly things.
Have some faith pass it down. Let him know the way back is easily found. When he's ready he'll come around. Shine a light and show him how. He needs it more than ever right about now.
You're gonna break somebody's heart that's true. Someone's gonna break yours too. You'll laugh in the middle of getting it done. And having it done to you.
You can tell a few things about the soul of a town. From the blood of the men gone in the ground. Bankrupt and buried by war that is carried out. By messengers now.