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• Artiste: Our Sunday Affairs
• Titre: Birdseed
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I stare out side my window Watch the birds I wonder how All they do Is eat, sleep, fly, and sing I sit inside my bedroom Kind of trapped but mostly sad I wonder why that cant be Me and you and all our friends Bad habits are such hard habits to break and Im still not convinced good habits even exist. But between all the empty bottles and cigarettes you think we would have learned something by now. Self destruction as an art form. Not the prettiest picture, but one I abide to none the less. Ive sang too many songs for someone only fifteen, and when did we start counting years by my number of teeth? Sometimes I Realize Why everyone Wants to kill themselves Its because Our hearts still sing And our ribs They still cage them But Ive got new limbs growing Ten feet taller today It runs down my back Here comes the grey again I get why People they love to live Its because We've got thoughts, thumbs, and other things