It's too nice to breathe
and I was feeling dirty
till now.
Now witness me silent.
Now I've got over thirty
good reasons to live.
It's too nice to breathe,
no longer I'm embarrassed
to have lungs like these.
In fall, the sky is dark
as summer's urges
soon submerge,
but beautiful to see
is your reflection on me,
is your reflection on me.
There's a spark in the air,
the oxygen is burning,
but we are safe.
Returning from work,
you know the names
of every streetlight
by your mother's driveway.
It's too nice to breathe,
I know you're sick
of the same skyline
and hate the evergreens.
But someday they will fall
as their base is choked
by frightening worms
whose blind organs can see
your reflection on me,
your reflection on me.
A glow is cast orange
on every single taxi
no one will ride.
And when I am weary,
the statue will ungrip me
and the leaves will die.
It's too nice to breathe.
I'm freer than the living,
if that's what they're called.
Now it's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe.
It's too nice to breathe,
It's too nice to breathe.