Telegraphic State Lyrics

Day has arrived, to shatter the neck of nighttime!
Your plane it burns in sunlight, something like slow motion!
And all that we can hope for in a situation like this is to leave it,
with a little bit of grace!
A dream of night, about you presence removed!
The next time that I drop this anchor, let it be your hands!
Won't you let it be your hands!
A face like a lions from fight on the subway!
A weekend of sleeping well after your departure.
Day has arrived to shatter the neck of nighttime.
As I sheild my face with these shaky hands.
When the sun's not in my eyes I see how lonely this place really is!
I still miss you, I still miss you, and the southwest sends its love!
Let it be your hands! Let it be your hands!
A constant cluttering of words with no ears to receive them.
So at least promise me that you'll send a letter once in a while.
A face like a lions from fight on the subway!
A weekend of sleeping well after your departure.
Day has arrived to shatter the neck of nighttime.
As I sheild my face with these shaky hands.
When the sun's not in my eyes I see how lonely this place really is!
I still miss you, I still miss you, and the southwest sends its love!