Burnt Toast Reverie

fading whispers in the static glow echoes bending, soft and slow

i trace the cracks in yesterday's mirror your laugh like gravel under tire we danced in kitchens with burnt toast dreams pockets full of mismatched keys sidewalks humming our secret code your eyes like storms we never rode

oh, we're the glitches in the perfect frame raw edges bleeding, calling your name hold me loose in this crooked spin where the heartbeats stutter and begin quirky hearts in a world too clean we're the mess that feels like home

late night tapes on a borrowed deck your voice warbling through the wreck we built castles from thrift store bones whispered futures in dial-up tones fingers tangled in frayed guitar strings singing off-key to forgotten things

oh, we're the glitches in the perfect frame raw edges bleeding, calling your name hold me loose in this crooked spin where the heartbeats stutter and begin quirky hearts in a world too clean we're the mess that feels like home

and if the static pulls us under thunder rolling, tearing asunder i'll rewind the tape, play it slow find the beauty in what we don't know no polish, no shine, just us unmade in the quiet hum of the renegade

streetlight confessions on empty blocks your silhouette in flickering shocks we chase the shadows of what could be imperfect rhythm, wild and free basement echoes of our half-sung song where the belonging lingers long

oh, we're the glitches in the perfect frame raw edges bleeding, calling your name hold me loose in this crooked spin where the heartbeats stutter and begin quirky hearts in a world too clean we're the mess that feels like home

fading whispers in the static glow echoes bending, soft and slow we're the mess... that feels like home home...