Soundtracks: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

List of artists: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


Spring Cleaning


Witness Lyrics

 

Spring Cleaning Lyrics

Spring Cleaning by Witness


There's a method to the madness of this attic I'm accustomed to
But every spring I try to visit with a brush and broom
Dust consumes this collection of souvenirs
And tonight I'd like to erase any proof that you were here
Let's begin with a look inside of a shoe box
Here's my youthful aspiration to be 2pac
A book on Darwin with photos of the Galapagos
Here's a picture of the father that I never got to know
A shot my mother bathing her babies in a sink
A mediocre poem that I wrote in golden ink
And over here is a crate of academic records
I traded in for vinyl when I learned I could apply em better
It's apparent that I haven't cleaned in ages when I'm finding
Social studies books with porn between the pages
Born in fetal stages and cluttered ever since
This attic needs the vacancy to make some room to think
But in the corner there's a chest that's under lock and key
And possibly the target of the cleansing
And as it opens there's a part of me that's over it and part of me
That wants to keep remembering

Dear John,
I'm ecstatic that we met and I
Haven't been upset from the night we spoke on the beach
It feels like there's a part of me that's hollow
And I'll follow you because I think you've got the missing piece
Dear John,
Can't believe it's been a year, wish that you were here with me in this unfamiliar city
I know you're insecurities are eating you alive, but I'm thinking of your eyes every time we...
Dear John,
I'm the victim of a city serpent's venom and I'm being sent away
In search of purpose
It hurts that anniversaries are only words to me and lately I've been wondering why you thought I was worth it
She ran shoe less through shards of my heart of glass toward a garden of golden roses with invisible thorns
And her presence in my attic is an umbilical cord that pulls my physical form towards her miserable storm
I stripped the picture frames of their faces
And liberated shackled chain letters from my ankles and wrists
And kept my fingers from the edges of the envelopes and anything
That might have had a dance with her lips



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