Texty: The Dangerous Summer. Home.

I can't tell you where I've been, but I hope to God you know. I want to run away from this. Fuck California, it's just the safest place I know; where everything is making sense. So get me out of here and I will take this to my grave, yeah, that's my dream. You took me out to make a point. I made damn sure you missed your flight. I've got more lines to write about you when you're gone. Because see, this CD has got me lost and songs won't ever save my life. Just send those post cards to make it known that you won't take to heart all the ways I've lost, because I'm gone now and I'm trying not to change. When everything I want to sing is just wasting breath; I'm a liar, but I'm working on my ways. I swear some day when I've got a way to change my life, I'll be a singer with a throat; and I won't fuck up all these lines. But that's a hope, yeah that's all I'll ever be. You used to have your faith in all my words, but now you're killing all of me. I lost my voice, and then my mind. I wrote a book of all my thoughts that could take me from my life. I had to fight to stay alive, because if I make it through the night then I just swear I could survive. So where's your head, and all your heart? I've got a plan to make this work, but I can't bring myself to try. I'll take this slow. I'll make you move. I know you can hear me screaming because it's all I ever do