Xr - Cymbals Eat Guitars

Broke my bong on purpose

Hit the ceiling with weed

The summer benzo blackouts

Erased my identity

At Vintage Vinyl to score some CDs

For ripping rails not listening

This is starting to scare me

The three perfect chords get me closer to heaven

Been mapping the abyss since 2007

Here I am again at Ben’s MySpace grave

And then out of nowhere

The smell of his basement

Where we watched Faces of Death

And we regretted it

Imagining victory

Our alternate history

The songs we never wrote

They float above and below me

Keepsake tinnitus shrieks me to sleep

Each frequency’s a memory of some

Show we attended

Fuck your learner’s permit

Drive down to Philly with me

To see the Wrens in a rec room

Out in the street our heat turns to steam

And every surface is mercury glass