These roads were built by the dead
They were inspired by something they read
And then they built the roads instead
These skies are half supported by our lies
Not often thought of
But far too often done. Looks like we walk the roads for fun
A life measured by lives touched
I know it don't mean much
And I do hope they grieve me
But I know they don't grieve you
If time were just some grains of sand
This is some infertile land
And i hope something grows here
There's flaws but I've been living my own way
So my life's just a segue
But it's the only way I know. It's fine
I just find hope on the decline
Is it out of sight or am I out of my mind?
What fucking nursery, rhyme ends like this
A life measured by lives touched
I know it don't mean much
And I do hope they grieve me but
I know they don't grieve you
If time were just some grains of sand
This is some infertile land
And I hope something grows here
Soon
These roads were built by the dead
They were inspired by something they read
And then they built the roads instead
These eyes have been trained to see only the disguise
Anything deeper. They can't recognize
Goddamn these eyes
