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An attempt to tip the scale - Bright Eyes

Did you expect it all to stop at the wave of your hand?
Like the sun’s just gonna drop, tf it’s night you demand.
Well, in the dark we’re just air, so the house might dissolve.
Once we’re gone, who’s gonna care if we were ever here at all?
Well, summer’s gonna come. It’s gonna cloud our eyes again.
No need to focus when there’s nothing that's worth seeing.
So we trade for liquor for blood, in an attempt to tip the scales.
I think you lost what you loved in that mess of details.
They seemed so important at the time now you can’t even recall
Any names, faces, or lines; It’s more the feeling of it all.
Well, winter’s gonna end, I’m gonna clean these veins again.
So close to dying that I finally can start living.