Sage Francis Threewrite Lyrics

This is to theintertwined souls.
To the hands I've been trying to hold.
This is to the love that I lost,
And all the troubling thoughts of how I got double-crossed.
This is to the divorce I was forced to settle with,
And the remorse I fought off with metal fists.
This is to the wet, watery kiss I left you with,
On your porch while I watched your trembling lips.

This is to the memory of our early years. The first girl I shared feelings with.
It's the realest thing I'd experienced in my short existence.
I ain't afraid to admit it.
Love is one of the things that doesnt come with an age limit, now does it?
In fact I'm apt to say we're more keen to feel such things.
Hopeful dreams aren't lost in a smokescreen of meaningless f___ing.
Touching without touching. Candles in the dark,
Casting shadows on our parents' battles. This is for the romantics at heart.
It wasn't too long,
Before I held you more then my pen when I wasn't writing songs
That went something like: "Forever and always..."
Whenever those songs play I remember empty hallways
Where your image that descended from the top floor became an echo.
I paid the price for those hauntings and couldn't afford to let go.
From a past of debt, I'm past regret.
Did you know I dreamt about you before we met?
Remembering our first kiss and it hadn't even happened yet.
Recollecting your scent and I wasn't ever given the chance to forget.
I guess that's the magic of it. Now I rehash subjects,
Displaying what I wrote on cafe napkins to the public.
To get it over and done with. Closure hath cometh.
My shoulders have plummeted from holding these buckets.
Hold your laughs 'til I go back to the tunnels of Paris,
Where I wrote half of these paragraphs...but f___ it.

This is to my ten year story.
In another decade you'd better be better prepared for me.
In the first four years you were all ears, then the next six,
You left me for the next ex and went deaf to my message.
So that began my affair with the world abroad,
Behind the curtain with the other hurtful girls I explored.
'Til I became the monster. Turned into the words that I record.
Pardon me if you've heard it all before.

I didn't shake you to hurt you...when you landed on the floor,
In a room of naked virtue. I closed my eyes to cancel what I saw.
Your hand made the first move to the handle of the drawer,
Where the frail girl couldn't think to live.
I didn't shake you to hurt you. I never planned it before.
Can't shake off your perfume. Can't wash my hands no more.
I'm breaking my curfew, but I can't walk. I'm standing at the door.
I hear the wailing of a little kid and the failure of innocence.
It's compromise, eyeing the side of the kitchen sink.
What did you think, I'd just let you cut you? Cut me? Cut the bullshit.
d___, I loved the hugs enough to tolerate,
The way we made each other crazy, making it so tough to operate...productively.
My self esteem didn't help,
When I felt ugly. I figured that's the reason why you wouldn't touch me.
My ego does bleed. I should've let you test it,
And let your arms free to follow through with your domestic slip up.
Love is a battlefield so lick your shots quick,
While I lick my wounds and then resume as an obvious target.
Infatuations with the past protect my Purple Heart with,
A faded picture I had in my shirt pocket.
I'm going out with a bang. In a blaze of glory holes.
The anti-hero. I don't care how many ways the story's told.
Be careful when these toolies play like drums,
And watch what you foolishly say because my uzi weighs a tongue.

This is to the sleepless evenings that I spent next to grave stones,
Hoping someone from beyond would grab my arm and take me home.
I half-accepted I'd have to make it alone,
After feeding everything I had into a payphone.
This is to the rain..
It felt like it was made of spit.
My parade was an unbreakable chain of Gabe's trumpets.
I saved the buckets even though they weighed down my walkin'.
You don't know the height of the stake you place your fork in.
"You look old." That's what you said. "I feel old." That's what I said.
I've been through a lot since you been gone: Dead,
born again, torn to shreads,
Over girls who were porcelain. The crybaby dolls.
When we were allowed to talk again, I stopped accepting wake-up calls...
That ring true. I hate the way I fall for everything you do.
Our fate has flaws. That's why I make these break-up songs to sing to you.
Music is my only psychiatric drug.
You're a pill in human form I'd like to hide under my tongue.
I kissed the foot that couldn't fit into the slipper of my mouth,
A denizen in your house, begging for the benifit of your doubts.
When I got kicked out I played the faithful puppy dog,
Loyal to the love I lost, sitting by your f___ing door,
In utter disbelief. I sucked all of the skin off of my teeth.
You pulled away and let me choke on your invisible leash.
You could find me hiding these screams behind my eyelids.
She blinded me...with silence.
So my air-mail lips blew her a fairwell kiss,
Slinking over the sink where all the hair gel drips.
Stairwells dip deep into her mouth, where I found a cycle.
Ever since then, I've been on a downward spiral.
this round is final. It's time to recover.
This c___'s a porch that some dogs choose to die under.
The first song was a breakdown. I apologized in round two.
In this version I'm certain the s___ ain't even about you.
It's the Threewrite.