Will you wait for me
Down the old path where
We drank a little too much
Smell of rain in the air
Bruised with cost
I still taste blood
The things we never lost
I'm not making it up
A generation sick of it all
Fired by the shortfall
Just a case of loving you more
I was life, I was love, I was petrified
With the arc of the word
I was trying to find
At least my heart was open
To the elements
Nothing will break my stride
On a Brooklyn night
On a Brooklyn night
Dark eyes and subtle dreams
Small town awakenings
Turn the page, a second act
Wonder if you're coming back
Churchyard to dancehall stand
A rear view and old demands
How do you find the perfect life
Reconcile with both sides
There's a generation scared of it all
Arguments that snowball
Must have lost my way back
Then I guess
And there's no time to be grateful
Just old scores
All the things that I should've done
They don't matter any more
There's a peculiar kind of shift
Something tangible in the air
I cut through the avenue
Take the parallel to beach
Close-quartered, summered, filtered
Raise an arm, shield eye from light
Stop the future bearing down inevitable
I'll remember reason
That stories conquer all
And that this is not an after thought
This is not an after thought