Typewriter tell me what year it was
Typing to the rhythm of a century on the cusp.
We were out there smoking on the sidewalks
We were lovers drinking to another song on the jukebox
Don't k** all the beautiful things
I was searching for truth, in the dust of my days
I was so lost, and I was so young.
Cinematic, I was cynical on the city bus
literary wrote lyrics like I thought I was
we were sleeping racing for the future
bicycle tires spinning revolution.
Don't k** all the beautiful things
I was searching for truth, in the dust of my days
I was so lost, and I was so young.
The city was sweating in the summer heat
I wrote melodies of regret to a def and empty street
I was so lonely it started to rain,
the lightning and thunder were singing my name
I thought those songs could save me.
I thought those songs could save me.
Don't k** all the beautiful things
I was searching for truth, in the dust of my days
I was so lost, and I was so young.
We were so lost, and we were so young.
DON'T KILL ALL THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS.