This isn't the way we planned
I wasn't supposed to forget your taste
Like nights spent figuring all the ways that we came to this place
There we were alone on top of your old rooftop in Highland Park
But ask me now..
Say, Chris look out across the sky and tell me which way the wind blows.
A core of coal
A core of coal and starches in within me
But even now that you're not here
I climb these mountains of houses every night
I say your name and I wish I could have done things right.
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