Monday, January 28, 2013

Bad Things

The vines creep up the ladder, I creep up the stairs
neither in by curfew, neither really cares
Yes I’ve been out drinking, on a tuesday night
but ask the vines where they’ve been, why they’re so uptight
Sometime around lunch time, my dad comes, wakes me up
pours a glass of water, and hands me the cup
My dad stares at me silent, he knows what’s going on
I look out my window, cut vines lay on the lawn

CHORUS

sneaking out at nightfall, climbing on the bike
backpack on your shoulder, in your mind just spite
down the hill so quickly, you feel like you can fly
the stars are watching over to be sure that you don’t die
you stop at all the green lights and go through all the red
too much of this freedom has gotten to your head
you think you’ve gone far, so you decide to rest
upon opening your weary eyes, you’re right back in the nest

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