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fuck myself, nothingâs heavier than what I let it be
so I gun down the moon and a bottle of wine, howl at my grief
my advice: stay unmoved, never chain your wolves to one girl
when the end comes, itâs just you and your friends vs. the world
the clouds in my chest have shit the bed
when I smell Mexican beer, I think of my ex
and when I write long winded letters to my dad
I think of my childhood and parenthood through a pen
hey, hey, hey, why do I feel so lucky?
hey, hey, hey, I hear a calling for the road
hey, hey, hey, simple me says nothinâ
hey, hey, hey, I care too much to be alone
the call we hear is too soft for the mouth, but not too soft for the ears
Bloom with the brutes, chief away, Toulouse, chief away, Toulouse
through this I choose to be the hands that loosen the noose
all love and art turns, so turn or be turned