on a journey to cleanse from his body a scar

it's now or never i keep telling myself
pulling off the bandages from the ghosts of friendships past
this summer left you breathless and coming in last

i saw you tonight and your arms looked bruised
i guess you've been pulling off band-aids too
i guess some people just don't know the worth of their own arms

this august i met a boy who was more friendly than the taste of beer
eyes giving off life from traveling for years
he was quick to contend and quick to forget
and the scars haven't quite healed themselves yet

and scars on your arms is the worst way to die

it's now or never i keep telling myself
so i'm leaving for just as long as it takes
to forget the apathy that suburbia makes
and i'll leave with my heart
and i'll bend when it breaks
and i'll stick to roads that flow like my veins

cause scars on your heart is the worst way to die

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