Manchester Orchestra

They call holidays an option for a reason
I heard you're coming back to life just for the fourth
I've been catching all your ghosts for every season
I pray to god you won't come back here anymore
do you pray with him, too?
They should deliver all my blessings
in small brown paper handbags near the porch
I wished I'd known that you were bleeding while I sat
and watched you reading with the lord
I read with him, too
when you look at me
I'll be digesting your legs
cause I can hardly see