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We Never Made It To Shell City

from The Manhattan Project by Depressant

/

lyrics

This Sunday sighs nostalgic lies of better days gone by. These thoughts of suicide get me through the night. They were gilded days, paved with fool’s gold as Spackle over holes that only hold to the naked eye.

Seeing life through a lens that is marred by early morning light, but it’s funny how well it brings this past year to life. I’m trying to piece together scattered fragments of good times and heartache, and it’s making my heart ache.

I guess it was selfish of me to think that things would stay the way they were and you’d stay here with me. I knew you’d move on to bigger and better things.

So I guess the best that I can do is wish you well and hope that you’re missing me too. I’d love to see you someday soon. I should probably just quit while I’m ahead and crawl back into bed while there’re still a few promising thoughts left in my head.

Oh, what a mess. I’m feeling faint from all of this. A body slumped in my hands forms the shape of my best friend.

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from The Manhattan Project, released June 16, 2015
Lyrics written by Michael Fursa.

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Long Island Emo.

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