Barren Hands // Fleeting Youth

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DayTripper

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With our sights set on the sunrise of a shift in stroke, just know
These dying days are no longer our own
The past will keep regression and regret
But I'm stray and ruined from a decade of despair, and dangerous is the mark of monuments built by barren hands
Love, I know where there's a will there too is a way, but some days are like a hurricane; void of mercy or escape
Lately I've been longing for a certain yesterday
Depraved, the way a train of thought can unchain and derail
I so desperately dream of the days that sang a chorus of great depth, true love, and course; as if somehow, the sunshine would never ignore us
When words were more than words, a gift wasn't always too a curse, and we weren't afraid of what we were feeling and why we fucking felt it
Tell me we can surely find redemption amidst this rubble

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