Theatre Eleven from Troubadour by rickoLus

You wear the bones I broke for you
Made out of milk and yellowed books
You paint your shoes to match the news
We found a room to break into
And calculate the space between our souls and sacred sex
With the moaning of a cannon blast into the night
A river bled out of your head
And I dove in to raise your feet
This is not how it ends
I see a bridge to send surrender of the gate
To some great depth I fight with poison
You fight with fists
We drank too much on Halloween
But ended up under your sheets with glitter on our lips
And hands a contract written on our faces maps
Our fingers trace across our skin
Conquering the stupid things
We hide behind the walls
We were born with conversations at their best
Will never pull an apple off of a tree
Do you see me
Do you see me now
Before we sleep
We both say good night

• Alternative
• garage indie rock
• Jacksonville Beach