I fall asleep on the forest floor
Because when I awake I forget your face
Spend summer days
Down by the lake
The White Hot Moon remembers you
I want to burn down your home
I want to watch you hold smoke
I see your face in the pavement of the cities, that we said that we would never visit
I hear your voice on a backwards tape recording, Lynch the feeling
Why am I talking like you're even listening?
My heart it ain't what it used to be
I've grown colder in a letter that I received when I should've been asleep...