Curse the weather that brought us together
And cut the tethers that drag us on
I shook the sheets to find some sense of “clean,”
But the memories came, that I pissed them all away
Stared at the floorboards. Kept track of my bed sores
And tried to filter the sh** that you say
You'll always find a way to block out the sun
And in the end, you were the waiting one
Threw out your clothes, your photos, from three stories up
Gave myself a condition I knew was in my blood
To the “wronged,” before me, to the “wronged,” before me
We're better off this way
You'll always find a way to block out the sun
And in the end, you were the waiting one
Curse the weather that brought us together
And cut the tethers that drag us on