Trace from Dirty Saint by often

I could trace it back
Your arms gone heavy
With a question asked
We shared a memory

I saw what you were hiding
So I told you the truth
But we spoke with silence
As if you couldn’t keep the proof

You called amen
From the living room
Made the air go muddy
All that violence
For what you couldn’t do
In the end we’ll both be running

With the day gone west
You took to old streets
To calm your banging chest
And send your veins to sleep
When you saw tears in my eyes
You reared your other head
Took your shot in the dark
And hoped your hurt would hit my glance

You called amen
from the living room
Made the air go muddy
All that violence
For what you couldn’t do
In the end we’ll both be running

You called amen
from the living room
Made the air go muddy
All that violence
For what you couldn’t do
In the end we’ll both be running

• Pop
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• Los Angeles