Driveway - Jilt | Текст песни

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• Driveway
• Jilt

Hopelessly haunted by a something
So gone it’s like you never even had one to begin with.
And I can only hope to predict how much you miss,
And what makes you tick,
And what makes you feel sick,
But it’s Christmas eve, the anniversary,
When you let me in.

You thought me a currency in listening,
Trading patience and silence for a chance to watch me,
Silently soliloquise about my failures and “but why?”s.
Snowfall’s our soundtrack,
Something ominous and dangerous.
And as everyone else says goodbye, you arrive.

An open letter to the last house on the left corner,
And I think that it’s sycamores,
Or something deciduous surrounding,
The fragility, my only memory.
It’s been so long.

Safe houses write clauses for this pretending game And we begin again.

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