faded americana and wilted melodrama our lives wasted like your brother in his bedroom speeding on the highway, trying to chase a high that came in june and left in july august spat you out alive

sustain your appetite with the fallen fruits of your enemies i love your little lies and how they patch up broken memories

wait for me in your baby blue gingham dress from when we were kids—the one that reminds you of grape juice and innocence i’ll run through the woods trying to tag you and when the red stains my fingers, i’ll say i was picking berries

because i would protect your name far stronger than mine no matter how much pain sears through my eyes we champagne toast, then you break the flutes into shards of glass and when the floor is glistening, i’ll say you’re troubled, you just have class

it’s you and me together as long as the stars gleam but when dawn paints the sky, you grab your car keys

because we are the american dream creating a family out of all that we can’t be i’m perfect until you pack your bags and leave

you came in june, you left in july august spat me out dead and dry