Sports

Bleeding from the nostrils
Red from scars left by the ceiling
Dying fast without a song
Without someone singing near me
"Come here it's alright."

I don't think you're the one
I don't think you're that song
But I'd really like to think you are
I really wish you were.

When you listened, you'd just listen far too hard
A construction-ridden park
All your trees are felled in part
Because of me.
Oh it's always 'cause of me.

So I will dig the tunnel
You'll stay up above
And shovel all the dirt back in
When I'm just about done.
Oh the worst fading light.

I'll see the sun for one last time
As it fades to one thin ray
And I'll think it just as no surprise
And continue on my way
Oh the worst fading light.

I will live here underground
Red from ceiling scars
I'll build a city in this space
And rub the finished work in your face
But maybe I'll just die.

Without a song, without a flashlight in the dark
A construction-ridden park
All your trees are felled in part
Because of me.
Oh it's always 'cause of me.