Transcendentalism - Bogues

God’s tired and I’m spent

Like a dollar in your back pocket

The keys to your apartment

And the chance I had to unlock it

You’re changed and you’re sent

Think I depend on you too often

Atleast you as a concept

The person’s as good as forgotten

You’re tired and I’m late

I’ve been drinking the last five days

Been sinking in the old lake

Drowning in the old days, and memories saved

But it won’t be the same, it’s a twist of the blade

But you’re tired and I’m late

It won’t be the same, no it won’t be the same

It will not be the same, and I’m already used to it

God’s tired and I’m spent

Found you in the floor vent

Wrestling demons and blowing some steam

Though it’s not what you meant

We both know it happened

I’m tired and I’m wrong

For forcing your hands

Making, you feel like I can’t

You feel how I can’t