The Fields

Letters that you wrote me in the back of my drawer

Laying with the mothballs on a bed of dust

Cause I can't stand to see your handwriting anymore

Papers stained with memories of us

And it's silent on the fields again

And I wish someone would hold my lonely hands

Run the bath I'll scrub off all of your sins

And someone else can fill the space I'm in

Naked on the floor cryin bout someone who never looked at me

And I'm breathing in the sun trying to burn my irises and lungs