Too much time on our hands
No one walks into death
The light just comes unattached
Ticket in hand
Put my feet in the dirt
The red-cracked clay of the south
I think it’s how this game plays out
I’m split down the middle
To burn or fade with grace
We come made for this
That sweet dissonance
Nothing paves the road for us
My sweet dogs will die
Your sweet eyes will dry
The cancer comes like a train in the night