Badtimes - Floods

Lost the air in our lungs to a smoke filled room

Now hotel lobbies and these songs remind me of you make your dark bleed black

While you’re gripping at my waistline

Act like we don’t know while we whitewash the last time

You crack like ice but you’re never cold you stole my sight now I’m seeing gold

never getting old

Twisting my lips when it hits

Is it as good as it gets?

Oh I’m tripping on the badtimes with you

I like the way you let me hold you down

Words stuck inside my head they feel like hell oh you still don’t know me but I

can’t lonely stuck in the palm of your hand

Oh I’m tripping on the badtimes with you