Dreams we lost to the summer, I will miss
The better home, that place you wanted, to be in

The dream of such seems above
Dream of being alive in your own wake

Leaving all your prayers at him
Never take it in, not today

When it feels like too dark
And I fade into

Looking through the looking glass
In the hand of a liar
You well read sick offend
But later call men a liar
And while you sweet talk
You sweet talk
You kiss and tell who can handle
You keep your face well lit
With the television

Now what those people did to