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letra de malt memories - wil wagner

i walked past cracked top-floor windows and boarded-up doors
past rubble and ruin and bits of the floor on the street
every blank brick tagged with huffers and heat
and an overwhelming sense that you’d been beaten
the air it hung heavy with humid humility
every half sentence inept of ability
to properly explain the pain and the hurt
the way things are now and the way things were

and it’s hard not to know when your time is up but it’s harder admitting you’ve had enough
and after everything we shared i still care so much about you
but we’ve been watching something great bloat and stagnate
and our best years liquor up and limp away
as hard as it is now scr-pping hope for this house and this family
i’ll always have your ink under my skin

and on the dead gr-ss and leaves and -ssorted debris
i sit and i toss back some malt memories
of you calling my name from the top of the city
telling me when i tried to believe
that what still lives in me
is selfless and sacred not selfish and mean
so i slink back into the dark district, meet up with friends
and drink myself sick from the things that i’ve said
and what p-sses my lips, what lives under my skin
how my left shoulder hurts when the temperature trips

our lives revolve around forged signatures and luck
our lives are funded by five-dollar door charges and love

- wil wagner

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