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Losing Streak
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Alanté
The summers came and went, left cracks in the cement.
We sat and wished the days we knew were open ended.
The tide rolled out again and I felt it sinking in, that everything is changing.
Goodbye Alante please don't die on me.
I watched the tide roll out in grayscale to all the places we could be, but somehow we just stayed here.
We were only hanging on by the footsteps that we made, but when the wind blows they'll be gone.
And there's a place where the ocean goes, and if we stay here we'll never know.
I'm staring at the lake at Longwood Park, the last place that I saw my heart.
All we know is something burned inside the words that we once spoke, a place we once called home.
Now our bones, they rest beneath the dirt so far below we thought we'd never go, but here we are.
Now our ghosts live on. They chase the setting sun.
We carved our names in wet cement and prayed for something permanent.
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