Cerulean City

Just this morning, out on my steps, it was raining I couldn't muster up the energy to go back inside to keep from getting wet Making excuses, I know the truth that's the glue that holds me down This feeling unwell Comtemplating months spent hating myself Not content but somewhat comfortable with self-contempt Maybe life isn't broken, but just bent I'm not convinced, something's gotta fucking give And that's when it hit me, this house doesn't have to be haunted anymore Open up the doors, let the breeze in The light at the end of the tunnel is the experience that we all seem to funnel Back into the bodies that we have rented Life doesn't always make sense But you're the only thought that does This house doesn't have to be haunted anymore Our house doesn't feel at all haunted anymore Life doesn't always make sense, but you're the only thought that does I don't know if you remember We were half asleep in my bed And I said, "One day you'd be asked if you would marry me" And barely coherently, under your breath, you said, "I would" I'm not sure you even know that I heard But those two words resonated harder than anything And once again gave me a reason to wake up In the morning