Treading

Devoted to a construct
Clear as day it seems
We've wasted our years on nostalgic 90s
We're holding ideas of the better days
Monochrome seems like comfort
When the colours turn to grey
To grey

Tell me, tell me
How cheap is homemade meant to be?
Stepping off the edge
Without fearing for safety
It's harder to simply love you
Than it is to say goodbye
Homemade love devalued
But it's homemade because it felt right

This blank space
With eyes sewn shut from everything
And casting you in colours that don't exist
Don't exist
In time, colours desaturate

Tell me, tell me (tell me)
How cheap is homemade meant to be?
Stepping off the edge
Without fearing for safety
It's harder to simply love you
Than it is to say goodbye
Homemade love devalued
Just homemade because it felt right
Because it felt right

Tell me, tell me
How cheap is homemade meant to be?
Stepping off the edge
Without fearing for safety
It's harder to simply love you
Than it is to say goodbye
Homemade love devalued
Just homemade because it felt right
Because it felt right

Is this the way it's meant to be?
Is this the way it's meant to be?