Gray Skies
Gray skies permeate our fields of view
And although it never rains, I still feel worry for you
Because the drive must take a toll on the young lover's weary soul
Even without the storm clouds rolling through and through
A knife for a lighter
A bright slice for a dull flame
If you cauterize my stinging words
I don't mind taking the blame
As I sit, As I ponder
All this time, all I wonder
Is how to reach the brakes
As I leave the hipster brewhouse
And I watch her walk away
And she backs out of the carpark
I can feel it start to rain
It would be straight out of a movie
If it wasn't so cliché
But I guess stereos type for a reason
Sometimes it just happens that way