Weighted tongue.

It's been so long since I've stood in the sound of heavy rain, so please take me out to drive in one lane - alone.

And when I die, when I'm long gone will someone write letters to their loved ones about how they covered my song? And when I'm buried please bury me with the keys, since if I go to hell I'll be everywhere I used to be.

Tongue tied, I swore my breath died when I couldn't catch your attention, though I'm sure that was your nonchalant prevention. So I hope someone good will tell me I'm not good enough, it'll give me inspiration to live up to.

And the one thing I can't talk about are these blinding lights, I don't repeat what's already been said, so there's so much I choose to keep in my head. And I don't keep what's in my head.

I won't lie, but I feel my acquaintance keep using me for their own ends, and they're the only ones I can't depend on, for a solid conclusion to my elusive case.

Keep in mind if I'm being laid down on my death bed, keep my pillows under my propped head so I can die with so meager fleeting grace. And no one I knew or talked to will remember my face, so I will continue to talk about how I never believed in Jesus Christ.

If you're wondering what my final thoughts were, I'll be thinking about where my hands were some time long ago, and how, "When I wear this hat does if it'll make a difference where I am, I think not, it's always awkward from where I stand."

All I ever was was the lost neighborhood dog, becoming soaked and smelling like a too soon April fog. And notice this song isn't about fucking, I'm just leading you on.

So don't take offense when I compare you to everyone else, because I swear, when you talk you sound just like everybody else.

And the one thing I do not on purpose - is mumble, so when you can't heard my words, I'll breath in the lines and breath out one last verse.