Verse by @otis.lowlight

there is honey in the bottom of the bad years the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath the bus came and i did not get on we made a home out of almost

there is honey in the bottom of the bad years winter came in through the window we never fixed i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand i am not sorry for the way i loved out loud

the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath i saved the last cigarette for a braver night you can hear the whole town breathing at four am the kettle screams and i let it