Tangerine trainwreck gently crashes through my doornOkay I've damaged spreading out across the floornHe's seen the glory of the coming of the endnI see the story of my slightly perfect friendnnSuspicions you rely onnThe remnants you get by onnThe worship you don't want from menThe parallel realitynThe grief becoming virilenThe prize-winning death spiral of what could be safetynnSeams you held onto slipping through your fingers nownThings you belong to can no longer show you hownInhaling barricades was all I ever knewnExhaling solitude untangling with younnTo paint a lasting tokennOf beauty always brokennPictures from a dreamed-up daynPeel off and fall awaynBlaring empty spacesnNew unfolding placesnBleeding through it, what could benCould be, could be, could bennWe tumble and cartwheelnLocking to collidenThe wreckage will revealnCapacity we hidennTo paint a lasting tokennOf beauty always brokennPictures from a dreamed-up daynPeel off and fall awaynThe latent under-panningsnAssembling beginningsnBleeding through with what could benCould be, could be, could be