Other Lost Arts

The end of the summer
And the six minute song
The days get short
And the nights get long
We were backed into a corner with a madman
We tried to talk are way out
And things just got out of hand

Where all the best minds
Don’t burn very bright
It’s just takes upon takes
In the bed by the light
Of the phone I can’t put down
But it’s not like anyone calls
The more I read the less I retain anything at all

Sincerity and other lost arts
You can get pretty far
With leftover parts
If there's gas in the tank
then there ain't not shame in believing
And if you came this far
You must have had your reasons

The world outside
is all tangled lives
It’s just rock paper scissors
Until they start throwing knives
You better say it now
If you’ve got something to say
We’re in the high numbers
Of our numbered days

Sincerity and other lost arts
You can get pretty far
With leftover parts
If there's gas in the tank
then there ain't not shame in believing
And if you came this far
You must have had your reasons

You get up go to work
You get lost out at sea
Until you can’t tell who what
Or how else to be
But you can count on the stars
To be where they’ve always been
And then sooner or later
your right back Where you began

Sincerity and other lost arts
You can get pretty far
With leftover parts
If there's gas in the tank
then there ain't not shame in believing
And if you came this far
You must have had your reasons