In this riddled woven mess, there’s one particular of roads
Where I realised one day, I fit so well into your clothes

And down that road amidst my fears, lies that I’ll strip myself of you
So please concede and prove to me that all of this is borrowed too

Because I’m running on malfunction
and you’re a difficult adjunction
and now I’m stuck in Armageddon
and I just cannot put the lid on



But while I’m falling off the cliff in this wonderful escape
You’re destroying all those things that I so comfortably create



I know that clothes could never wilt, but they get old and rip apart
I also know that they’re a must; I know that love is what makes art

Still, really, my wardrobe is full,
and in the end you push - I pull
And while I wish for this to last,
I am the dragon to be passed



And what if we’re to be forever
- could I make us into never?



So please be patient when I fail
to accept these warming clothes

Because I've found a thing to keep
amongst these old and lonely roads