An old song about a girl I was seeing and the demise of our relationship.
You say this is not a lack of heart, a lack of faith, no not at all,
It's just a lack of time, just a lack of space, just a lack of the meaning for this case, this crime and this acquisitions.
But you're guilty by your own admission.
And you can't hide the evidence that has been released.
Capture the moment with a picture and paste it to the wall to show commitment.
That makes it real, that makes it stable.
Well baby, I don't think so, in every one my back is turned.
And the phone calls are a butterfly knife twisting in the scars of a life which I keep trying so hard, so hard to set apart.
You wrote a letter to me citing every single flaw.
It was a paragraph of excellence that could not be ignored.
I'd plan to write back, but truth be told I haven't got the time or enough words for all your traits that slowly led to my demise.
So let me peel my skin and place it on your grave as a reminder to outsiders not to lose the games you play.
Our friends will argue over who had the most crippling demise, in what simply became an orchestrated breakdown of our lives.
released May 19, 2011
Written and performed by Marches and Maneuvers.
Recorded and produced by Darron Atkinson
Female vocals by Jade Turnbull
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