That dull amber glow:
oh, how I've grown to fear this city
to loathe the deep damp that creeps into my bones

It feels a lot like alone. alone.
cold fronts creep up in every conversation
I'm done gutting myself for an honest answer
I've run out of that kind of patience
I'm sincere; it's abundantly clear
This is not,
has never been,
will never be
Home to a loyal fool like me
I'm craving closure and finality
Oh, Emerald City!
On the hill, by the sea,
you have unravelled me
you have disproven me

That plain, desperate scrawl on a Rome-facing wall
I've passed every day this year
It says, "All harm ends here."
And it's brilliantly designed,
but it lacks the bottom line to buy.

It tastes a lot like a lie. a lie.
cold fronts creep up in every conversation
I'm done gutting myself for an honest answer
I've run out of that kind of patience
I'm sincere; it's abundantly clear
This is not,
has never been,
will never be
Home to a loyal fool like me
I'm craving closure and finality
Oh, Emerald City!
On the hill, by the sea,
you have unravelled me
you have disproven me

No more broadest of brushes
to black out the blight.
Here's my line in the sand (my 54'40")
and I'm fighting now.
I've got the cruelest of cutlery
to carve you out.
You'll be excised, cast off


It feels a lot like at last. at last .

once I was a fisherman
and I came out west to cast my nets
and I'd call out spades to anyone who'd listen.
and what I found were
Jagged jigsaw corners: relentless,
ambitious, and stubborn
(Even as I was).
I miss my father's cut-and-dried forgiveness,
And I hope he knows this:

This is not,
has never been,
will never be
Home to a loyal fool like me.
I'm craving closure and finality.
Oh, Emerald City, on the hill, by the sea,
you have not bested me.
You have not bested me.
Oh, Emerald City, on the hill, by the sea,
You have not bested me yet.
You have not bested me yet.
There's still fight in me.