all this time spent waiting for the good souls searching for those who’ll kick back and hum along to the rock + roll those who make this world just enough this world’s not nearly enough and I could think of much better pale yellow stars, hot orange fires lining the sky with high wires and no one carves names in to trees anymore we trace them in the sand, to be washed down shore when I’m feeling nothing I just remember july when you were saving my life saying we weren’t born just to die we weren’t born to fade away and you’re still what all my mistakes are for…