Texty: Death Is Not Glamorous. Soft Clicks. Magic Fang.

These colder nights don?t change a thing, I?m walking
Through leaves that leave their trees, return to soil
Soils that will soon freeze and we talk on the phone
When we?re both alone, practice penmanship,
Our names on walls with markers broad and thick
Broad strokes, the lines we draw, from block to block
And across shining seas until they meet again
I won?t forget, we leave our marks
And don?t regret a thing, ?cause we?re growing,
And each time we collide we learn and after all,
We?ll stay close to what we know we can be,
All we can be, across shining seas into the sunrise
Ride our bikes into the sunrise