I’m not looking for forgiveness.
To the sleepless, this is my reply:
I will write you a lullaby, a lullaby.
yeah the money’s coming but I miss you like hell.
your eyes were lined with questions.
‘Cause lately I’m not dreaming so what’s the point in sleeping?
And my friend calls me up with her heart heavy still, she says, “Andy the doctors prescribed me the pills”
Give me something to believe in, a breath from the breathing
I still hear your ghost in these old punk rock clubs
It started feeling like October.
