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Neil Armstrong

Races To April

If the planets were aligned
with some cosmic breath of faith
to help us through the night
then I'm sure we'd be alright
I can tell that something's wrong,
but it's like a melody I just can't put my finger on
And I feel like every thought
with relevance dissolved
Just sublimed into the atmosphere once and for all
until the rain does fall

It's times like these that make us aim for the throats
and fight to the bone
Never leaving well enough alone,
but well enough just fades as fast as footprints in the snow
From the driver side door
to the grass outside your window
on the second floor

I'm choking on the words trying to whisper
something we can both believe
But I can't take the chance to trip over the cracks in
the syntax in everything

The thought inside my head
is maybe love is just a sheet you pull up to your chin
when the room's too cold in bed
Every paged scattered on the floor
is just wastered paper,
trite, and forced, and insecure
Just know I'm doing all of this in hopes
I'll write a single fucking word
that will mean anything to anyone,
to anyone at all
I'm begging for an honest line to bloom
just to say,
"I love you like Neil Armstrong love the moon"
Well honesty's the hardest thing to prove

I'm choking on the words trying to whisper
something we can both believe
But I can't take the chance to trip over the cracks in
the syntax in everything

I'm choking on the words trying to whisper
something we can both believe
But I can't take the chance to trip over the cracks in
the syntax in everything

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