All The Week

The Lawrence Arms

Misleading utterings

Shadow boxer

Right hook mood swings

My endurance test

I coughed and bled and caught my breath

Tender in a burning sense

The way we spoke when we were silent

Repressed in living scenes

Black and white like old TV's screens

Front porch confessional

Bottled feelings finally smashed

Against the wall

This is the virus

Sitting in silence

Armed with expression

With vague misconceptions

Came to me in a bleeding dream

On filtered avenues of light

Blue serenity turned red angrily

Thought provoking in a distant tense

A perfect paragraph of broken narrative

These dusty floors

Don't seem to come clean anymore

I'm watered down

Evaporated from the ground

Connections faltering

Dehydrated when the phone rings