...via Postcards Lyrics

I think I'm losing myself

They saw me falling down

I crossed the finish line, but my shoes melted to the ground

Maybe you'll see me in Portland

After all these years

You'll stop and say I look the same

I couldn't say a thing

You were just a dream

My purpose fulfilling itself in your suffering that must mean something

That must mean something

My purpose fulfilling itself in your suffering that must mean something

That must mean something

I haven't been the same since you went away

I get used to it, I get used to it

I wrote you a letter, but I doubt that you read it

I get used to it, I get used to it

One day I'll send you a postcard

With flowers well arranged

You'll stop and say that I look the same

I haven't slept in weeks, what do these ghosts think of me

One day I'll send you postcard

With flowers well arranged

You'll stop and say that I look the same

I haven't slept in weeks, what do these ghosts think of me

I'm still here, are you proud of me

You only knew me as a kid

I thought I'd die before nineteen

Made it past my mistakes, made it past all my mistakes

The scars and echoes of your name

They all stay here on my body

Next to images of you, back when you were happy