Untitled (Cont.)

Every time I cry about your transience
 I replace you with the thought of
 The growing moon as I climb towards it
 Tell myself "It's not too late"
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 And rest assured that I won't ever have to care
 About anyone because it's too late
 And with you it
 It gets harder to realize, it gets harder
 Do you ever think about? You promised
 I wanna die when you're not here
 Cause I'm convinced everyone else
 Thinks that I'm a dick
 My ideals fog up my windshield
 And I crash into the houses
 They depict in
 Their songs
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 I want to be a part of you again
 Face the crowds and turn back again
 Rediscover why we're turning back
 Away from a town you say has lost all of it's meaning
 In a way I can't see the town I only see frustration
 And I see a landscape, a blank, raw canvas
 I guess we're all our own co-pilots
 In our cockpits made of tin
 And when we think about each other
 We despise the states we're in
 Can't tell you that it's better
 Because I'm truly not that sure
 But I do think that wont matter
 Because this way we are sure
 That we're not happy yet