Paroles: Riot Before (The). Fists Buried In Pockets. Capillaries.

We build utopian empires
We construct policy
Slumped over on bar stools
Stumbling through the streets
We are dreaming in vacuums
Where there's no gravity
All the words that we say never hold any weight
They are polished, they're perfect, pristine
Show cars on the street

Singing tongues over rhythm
Always searching for words
I'm alone in the backseat
In communion with chords
Tightened strings over fret boards
Transcend the distance of stars
But the light that's received is distant history
The present still lost in the dark

The downtown is deserted for suburbs and strip malls
The country inverted lit up by a cell phone
I'm mindlessly scrolling through numbers I won't ever choose
'Cause I can't call you
I wish I could call you

There is a dim light that shines from the opposite side of the lake
A haze over water, that something I can't quite attain
There is a canvas whose blankness is screaming, keeps me awake
I am wrong, I am flawed, but I am saved

So it's cheap beer and late nights just sitting outside talking dreams
That's how I remember it
It's blood always making its way to the tiniest veins
That's how I remember it

I woke on the floor of a stranger's apartment
Refilled pockets with spilled change
I walked out the front door into the descending rain
Occupying the empty space
Between the lines filling history's
Pages of war, kings, of famine, and fortune
The leaders, the fallen, magnificent chosen
Though I am a drop in the largest of oceans
Through unceasing motion
I'll cling to the constants
Sunrise and the sunset
Tempered yet unquiet
With fists buried in pockets