Curse the weather that brought us together

And cut the tethers that drag us on

I shook the sheets to find some sense of “clean,”

But the memories came, that I pissed them all away

Stared at the floorboards. Kept track of my bed sores

And tried to filter the shit that you say

You’ll always find a way to block out the sun

And in the end, you were the waiting one

Threw out your clothes, your photos, from three stories up

Gave myself a condition I knew was in my blood

To the “wronged,” before me, to the “wronged,” before me

We’re better off this way

You’ll always find a way to block out the sun

And in the end, you were the waiting one

Curse the weather that brought us together

And cut the tethers that drag us on