Dixie Cups and Jars - Waxahatchee

I’m not a whipper in the wind

Or solace laying at the bottom of a bottle

Or your thick skin

Escape yells both our names out loud

We run like hell, I’ll write a tragic epilogue and you’ll act it out

I watched your dad give you away

I watched him drink the bitter taste in his exertion away

Make-up sits on your face like tar

The champagne flutes poorly engineered

Employ dixie cups and jars

Like minds let go of doubt

I watched it blow right out

And we danced on gaffs and graves

You’ll remain, I will find a way to leave gracefully or I’ll escape

I do not fall to losing face

I dream I dive into something greater

Something to take my grief away

Dead leaves crunch, I will not be missed

I fill my jar up to the brim

I am an arid abyss

I’m an arid abyss