relics by emily the band

We were sweet, weren’t we?
And that’s why my eyes sting
I ran away because our fires didn’t burn the same
You know I hate biting my tongue

Kissed your cheek until you stayed
Feeling that was our last Friday
You tasted like lemonade, sweeter than the cake we made
I knew nothing would ever taste the same

But I’ll still read your poetry
When I’m old and crow’s feet remain
From when our cheeks would hurt the same
And I’ll keep relics of the mess we made
Relics of the mess we made

Thankful for every page
My heart melted with each note you made
Who’s your next muse? Who is mine?
Whose will I be? Will we find
Our selves in-between the lines?

But I’ll still read your poetry
When I’m old and crow’s feet remain
From when our cheeks would hurt the same
And I’ll keep relics of the mess we made
Relics of the mess we made

One cold night, one stone bench
Two of us, two young kids
And three strong words I never said aloud

One cold night, one stone bench
Two of us, two young kids
And three strong words I never said aloud

But I’ll still read your poetry
When I’m old and crow’s feet remain
From when our cheeks would hurt the same
And I’ll keep relics of the mess we made
Relics of the mess we made

One cold night, one last kiss
Though it hurts, we’re just kids
I’m sorry it all ended up like this

But who’s your next muse? Who is mine?
And whose will I be? Will we find
Our selves in-between the lines?

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