[Oh well, if we talk about the world with matching platinum hair
Will you forget that you were born to vagabond?]

I've regressed to the fragile state of a middle school me
Painting black around my eyes and on post-it notes
Says, "We're forgiven" -- I'll post a thousand in your little kitchen
And in your freezer, all those homemade popsicles are still in place
And they wonder where you've been
That second wind, it pushed my hair a certain way
I'd like to say it's the direction to where you're living
To where you've been hiding out
I wish I could see the world we'd fit in so well

We're falling far from ourselves; we're not blameless anymore
But if you travel through the world, then I will travel through my mind
I'll find our innocence and both of us secure

I hope that the end of your story sees you marching back to Earth with flying colors, to walk on water under bridges burned to return my lended love
I hope it did you well up in Andromeda, 'cause while you were doing god knows what, I was faking sick from school and work just to write our story out
I hope it's enough of a tribute to keep you alive and well for eternity in sound and word alone
To stop my own magnetic insides from pulling me into your head
When you could make it to the moon and back, and I could only make Mahomet
It's set in stone -- we are just history, leagues and worlds apart
I hope I did you proud 'cause you made me so proud

After I'm dead for decades, would our grandsons and daughters ever know what you mean to me?
I can't promise to forget-me-nots, but I promise this song will keep you close as can be
So after you're dead and reincarnate, will the new you ever know what the old you had meant to me?
Maybe you'll find this well, just smile and accept it, and keep it close as can be
After we're dead for centuries, I'll find a way to make the world know what you meant to me
All the scientists will just utter your name to my heart in a jar
Then watch it beat

[Oh come on, let's talk about the world
We'll learn our lessons by the night and cycle blessings on the daily
We'll be broken, let our pieces fall in tandem, claim that there's a greater plan, and take the messes made and put them under gravestones
And say that we were good boys]