Fucked - WVRM

Our failed love and the regret it brings

Our first name nights and the shame of the in-between

Haunting me

Three words that choke you in your sleep

How they rang as loud as crashing cars

And stretched further than all our wounded roads

You were as the damage and trauma

Beautiful like dying butterflies given to withered petals

I felt the winter coming

I felt an aging spring

Never knew what kind of sorrow the passing years could bring

So I’ll wait here for my days to lay claim

When our torn paths are lined with broken graves

And every rope I gave sways empty in the breeze

Like Spanish Moss upon South Carolina trees

Our failed love

The regret it brings

Forever haunting me