Dixie Cups And Jars (Waxahatchee)

I'm not a whipper in the wind Or solace laying at the bottom of a bottle Or your thick skin Escape yells both our names out loud We run like hell, I'll write a tragic epilogue and you'll act it out I watched your dad give you away I watched him drink the bitter taste in his exertion away Make-up sits on your face like tar The champagne flutes poorly engineered Employ dixey cups and jars Like minds let go of doubt I watched it blow right out and We danced on gaffs and graves You'll remain, I will find a way to leave gracefully or I'll escape I do not fall to losing face I dream I dive into something greater Something to take my grief away Dead leaves crunch, I will not be missed I fill my jar up to the brim I'm an arid abyss I'm an arid abyss