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lyrics

we played love, upon a tired stage
I gave in, and we came on a blank white page
the morning come, the sun was a tidal wave
that I rode from a shore that you were sure you replaced

readhead, are you red yet?
legs spread on some wretched poet’s deathbed
the sweetest sentences swept from a mind
you weren’t meant to be lying with

your mother said, stop fucking writers babe
I admit, my pen was sharp that day
even if it was indeed your pain
it was my play, her wave, our stage

redhead, are you read yet
legs spread on some wretched poet’s deathbed
sweetest sentences that came from a night
you never meant to be lying in

sometimes I think what a mind I have
that let’s me bleed in a way to be read
I apologize if I seemed insensitive
because in the end, you never did,
we just weren’t meant for this

with a sweet heart, comes sweet art
with a sweet heart, comes sweet art

credits

from quietly, in the mourning, released September 30, 2014

tags

tags: folk Boone

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z.c.white Boone, North Carolina

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