Those midnight dances the lost fly away in,
The three am picnics for flirty teens,
The cigarette butts homeless share at four,
The Casper’s of everyday, the ones we’re never sure of to see again.
Here’s to the lost, and hopeless
o n a n
l i d
d. n s
Here’s to music that’s saved me more times then I realized, here’s to finding words for pages, here’s to you for carrying on your back all that you have to.