The Past That Suits You Best

Salt in my eyes, stinging my brain. It's been forty odd days since we've been clean. Crawl in the cave looking for light But the ceiling descends and still it's dark. Hey there, don't declare Optimist It's clear you resist. I try all the time To get it right And still it persists. Touched that you think I'm a heartless old crank And there's things that I've done to convict me of that. Try to look out eyes straight and fast But I've struggled of late, my head in the past. Hey there, dont despair Get in the cave. We live day and night To find the right Sort of light. Bored of the truth I return to my youth, Drinking Breaker at night in the cold Duchess light. Out by the fence there's a shout and I'm dead. Get me out of this place, I'll take casuals another day. All gates are locked, there's no way I can walk And the paths that I took led me into the swamp. Even this trusty accomplice gets rusty, I'm not being cruel but your brain never ruled. I've seen the trauma of lives that were squandered But I'm not to blaim for showing restraint. Hey there, don't declare Optimist. I try every night To get it right. And still. (Something just fucking ran out behind me I swear to God. Probably a fucking moth knowing you. Why don't you go back and see then? Well naw.) No path of truth led me where I could walk But the lies that I made led me out of the swamp.