Gold Mine Gutted

My stray dog freedom
And you ruin who you love
To keep my head
Until I'm out of breath
Well all these claims at consciousness
Until you're out of breath
The sorrowful Midwest

And all those white lines that spread us up
And from the sidelines I see you run
We were a gold mine that gutted us
Just a turntable to watch
But you think about yourself too much
Like a bag we buy and divvy up

It was grass stain jeans and incompletes
Well I lagged behind

And a girl from class to touch
Well I did my best
On all those hooded sweatshirt walks
We were a stroke of luck
We hurried to our death
Speakers on a TV stand
Living the good life, I left for dead
Only smoke came out our mouths
And from the sidelines you'd see me run
Let's have a nice clean cut