Living Saints

I cut my fingers on a broken picture frame
The welling up waxes and wanes.
Its not fair and it hasnt been
All my friends are living saints.
Been killing me for weeks
A garden **** that cracks concrete.
It hasnt been fair for long
Growing up isnt moving on.
Moving on.
Nooo. Moving on.
Do you miss our broken reason, the nights spent treating
Troubles and normalcy to bottles and comedies?
You forgot your necklace upstairs on purpose
It was you golden ticket scam and it always made us laugh
Do you see me as your acquaintance, your death by time, age and long distance?
Broken picture frames
The welling up waxes and wanes.
Its not fair and it hasnt been
All my friends are living saints.
Been killing me for weeks
A garden **** that cracks concrete.
It hasnt been fair for long
Growing up isnt moving on
All my friends are living saints, living saints, living saints.
Broken still but never breaking ties (X3)
Moving on.
I never pictured this, disperse in fall and dont reminisce
See its just not fair, not everyone moved on.