Gatherers
Ann Liv Young
You are a picture of a room with no people in it
And there is rot behind the walls
And the bulbs have long died out

You are a moment in my mind, played out in perfect harmony
But the needle misaligns and your words never quite add up
Small talk with no recollection of the ones you've lost
A letterhead without a name

The buzzing of the vacancy sign sings until you're comatose
An empty bed pressed with your silhouette and tessellated accidents (Unwinding, unwinding)
A circle on a map with no address (Unwinding, unwinding)
A tear in you that widens in degrees (Unwinding, unwinding)
But I digress, I digress, I digress (Unwinding, unwinding)
Please, forget me

Oh, you're a mess I can not mend
And I'm running out of thread
Now we're fading by the law of diminishing regrets

Nothing brings you back
Nothing brings you back
Nothing brings you back
Nothing brings you back

You're a date and time I penned on the inside of my hand
Too weathered to make sense of
Forget me