Your hometown, in your high school parking lot We watched the sun go down, you were scared if I thought you were cool or not. It started raining, so we ran to feel the shelter. Inside of your house.
Behind the shadows, Just off the road by Cambell’s Hill. It was where I cracked my head open. Had a thirty stitched up swell. We lock our windows, To avoid the cold dead air. Inside of your house.
This time let it resonate through you. I am the patron saint of sin.