Passed Out Trees

Making tire tracks in the sand
It feels the same to me
I fall behind and then reach for your hand
It feels the same to me

You don't even love me in my dreams
A thin fabrication with fraying seams
You let yourself in
I kept shit open

Biking through the old summer paths
You say it feels the same to me
Passed out trees and dull coloured grass
It all feels the same but me

Is nothing the same
Are we without aim

You don't even love me in my dreams
A thin fabrication with fraying seams

Is nothing the same
Are we without aim