Dashboard Confessional Lyrics

12. Hell On The Throat

A line of strands to mark the trail, 
no one said it would be easy.

I must admit I thought the risk was better waged in younger seasons, 
but all these years in the cold play hell on the throat 
till everything I say burns like cinders, 
why it’s hard to belong to a girl or a song 
and the crease of a strangling winter

It’s strange to be lost, stranger still to be lone 
in the strings of a twisting line.
Along the way the turns are sharp, 
no one said they would be easy, 
I must admit I thought the trip was better in younger seasons. 
But all these years in the pursuit made a man of a fool, 
till every word I say is on waver.

Why it’s hard to belong to a girl or a song 
in the case of a selfish believer, 
it’s strange to be lost and stranger still to be lone 
in the strings in a twisting line [x2]

And when the path I have made 
from the grass to the grave, 
I will love you still. 
And when the sand turns to glass 
and all that’s left is the past 
and I will love you still.

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