Whiskey, Vows, & The Weight OF Age

 
 

Apologies and a compromise 
The fog descends on a tired mind 
You bite your lower lip 
The dry taste of what to say 
Growing lines on a worried face 
Of all that I miss 

And I know this life is a fight 
That I crawl just out of spite 
And I know this love is a fight 
That I watch on from outside 

En, to, tre, fire 

Whiskey, vows, and the weight of age 
Can’t dodge the tides of change 
I bite the hand 
Wonder what we will grieve about next 
A grand symphony of the deaf 
Of all that we have planned 

And I know this life is a fight 
That I crawl just out of spite 
And I know this love is a fight 
That I watch on from outside 

En, to, tre, fire 

Waiting on a rain of frogs 
A cloud of crickets you call upon 
I’ll bite the bullet 
A rusty voice, weak and sour 
wrecking the pitch-perfect choir 
All that I’ve sullied away 
So I come to grips, and read my role 
and wear the hat, and wear the coat 
I, I bite the apple 
A game-face on, a crocked smile 
As I give in to the lies 
All of my shackles undone 

And I know this life is a fight 
That I crawl just out of spite 
And I know this love is a fight 
That I watch on from outside 

Whiskey, vows, and the weight of age 
Whiskey, vows, and the weight of age 
Whiskey, vows