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Tyson Motsenbocker

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Tyson Motsenbocker

Folded

Well I tried to remember the feelings in words
To write you in pictures to focus the blurred
Images of your features, and all of the beautiful lies that we told
So I try like a widower, furrowed white brow
At the cornershop recounting to the old crowd
Of his first wife's complexion
When all of the skeleton lines have erased

We folded
Under stormy weather
imagine it all, the love that we wasted

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Well it's not that you're gone
You're just farther away
And the very same distance I thought you would stay
Because I broke you pieces
I broke you to pieces

We folded
Under stormy weather
imagine it all, the love that we wasted