Currents - Dashboard Confessional

The air is visible around you,
Rising up and off your lips in slow currents.
And I watch as your face is framed in it's slow currents.
Drifting curls, a trailing path,
A long drag becomes a tress of blue and ash.

If it is born in flames then we should let it burn.
Burn as brightly as we can.
And if it's going to end then let it end in flames.
Let it burn all the way down.

The air is visceral around us,
Turning in it's circle steps on slow currents.
And I watch as it pirouettes and spins in slow motion.
A long drag becomes a slow dance in a halo of ember.

If it is born in flames then we should let it burn.
Burn as brightly as we can.
And if it's going to end then let it end in flames.
Let it burn all the way down.
All the way down.

And if this is ever meant to end,
Then I hope it ends where it began.
So hot with love, we burned our hands.
If this ever meant to end,
Then I hope it ends where it began.
So hot with love, it burns our hands.

If it is born in flames then we should let it burn.
Burn as brightly as we can.
And if it's going to end then let it end in flames.
Let it burn.

Let it burn,
If it's going to end.
Let it burn,
If it's going to end.
Let it burn,
It ends where it began,
So hot with love, it burns our hands.

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