Old English
anchors
These bones are worn
Tethered through storms
My heart is torn
But Iâm still warming
To the thought of giving up on you
The bridge is drawn
Already gone
With all the hopes Iâd built upon
These pros and cons
Half-frozen ponds and you
Now I donât have a clue
What to do
It always ends this way
When you go
When you go away