We don't visit, so I choke on some
And the days burn into one in the darkness of my eyes
Only things I've never done, sheets are swayed
The best is yet to come
Clothesline, like a row of captured ghosts or golden grass
There's never much but we think of those
We don't know
All my nightmares escape my head
Or the door, please don't let them in
We were never supposed to leave
Now my head's waiting at the sea
And I don't know if I can
I believe my lies
I feel lost
As into my skin I can't
I don't know
We will make America free
We will make America free
