we pick our battles but don't pick well
we run ourselves to death
we're nowhere yet,
if you were a friend
you'd let them know that
we just couldn't stand
to stay here anymore
it's not the end
so please don't feel like
you need to pretend
you don't want us to go
sell all your things
we just won't need them
whatever we bring
will only weigh us down
if you're a friend
you'll tell them all that
we just couldn't stand
to stay here in this town
anymore
-Dirty on Purpose
Plastic flowers never fade,
We all turn to gray
