Vines

I see meaning where you don't, where you don't

I see waves of pastel orange and yellow paintings fire

I see futures that you won't, that you won't

I see futures where out lights are lost to condensation

Night time in the basement,

screaming about our feelings Running through the cold air

Searching for a meaning

Passed out on the concrete

Dizzy from the spinning

Wake up to the feeling that everybody's leaving

I'm sick of your come downs

Sick of your truce

Sick of your way

I'm sick of your tragedy that's living in our status

I'm sick of your echoes

Sick of these ghosts that haunt our place

I get a feeling that I'll never leave this house again

Night time in the basement,

screaming about our feelings Running through the cold air

Searching for a meaning

Passed out on the concrete

Dizzy from the spinning

Wake up to the feeling that everybody's leaving

Everybody's leaving

Failed by design, slow your pace down to mine

Watch my back, heave a sigh

Keep it safe, make it right

Failed by design, slow your pace down to mine

Watch my back, heave a sigh

Keep it safe, make it right

Night time in the basement,

screaming about our feelings Running through the cold air

Searching for a meaning

Passed out on the concrete

Dizzy from the spinning

Wake up to the feeling that everybody's leaving