Mayflies

Take this bread and take this cup, it's no fun being runner up

Never meant to be so mean, first time comes for everything

Like this blood on my hands and the mark on my head

And the memory of someone I left for dead

Angels just won't let it be, always picking fights with me

Catch your tiger by the heel, trade it for a solid meal

And the clothes on your back and this voice in my head

And the memory of someone I left for dead

Mayflies cloud the summer skies, flying fast to their demise

Spindle legged against the sun, guess you're not the only one

With this blood on my hands and this voice in my head

And the memory of someone I left for dead.

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