I heard you saying "No Regrets" and I wondered if you knew. When you got it tattooed on you it'd hurt more to get removed. Like a killer in denial or the lucky fuck without a clue. I feel regret like it was a knife wound that didn't strike true. I see myself as the upstate mosquito. Who will probably die trying to bite through jeans. Thinking back on my favorite regrets. All failed attempts at dying for dead dreams. It's easy to assume the past was better in most ways. It's more than era worship, more than helping forget today. It's hard to give it all when you know there 'aint enough to take. With less go getting to be gotten, the world is ours to make. I see myself as the upstate mosquito. Who will probably die trying to bite through jeans. Thinking back on my favorite regrets. All failed attempts at dying for dead dreams. I used to have a black shirt, soft stained, that I could never throw away. I used to think it looked how I felt if I never threw it out, I'd never have to change. 'Cuz a truth filled wallowing will always trump half feigned smiles, yeah. I see myself as the upstate mosquito. Who will probably die trying to bite through jeans. Thinking back on my favorite regrets. All failed attempts at dying for dead dreams. The kind of thinking that you can't quit. When the wind blurs the lines in the dirt. That second chance, it 'aint worth shit. If you still can't feel the scars from the first. So here we are, upstate mosquitos. Wary of this season's change. But thinking back on our favorite regrets. That kept us all from dying for dead dreams.
