Druse - Presents At Home lyrics

Oh dear god What happened to her son? They haven't said who shot him because they'll never really have to They're still piecing things together Still questioning the witnesses Everything's a process The process is a circus I'm still waiting for his name I want to recognize the taste My friend John was there More of a friend of a friend But he described the way he went so specifically limp And the way his torso doubled over; His eyes so impossibly ripe And what he started saying stopped making any sense But I heard him And I still do They all make the same agonizing sound Young bodies all crack and contort the same way When they fall against the pavement It's getting harder to differentiate I'm groping toward conclusions I'm exhausted, I'm trying to gain perspective On why I've spent the last year being moved into the basement My sister-in-law always has an alibi A story or a place to be Of an inevitability her parents warned her of since she could barely speak That was never me That will never be I just want to understand without deviating from my place I want to be him noticing his shirt sticking to his stomach His stuttering in disbelief as he falls backward onto the yard Their friends at school who sprint across the blacktop to reach the safety of their parents' cars Their older brothers Swimming coaches Family friends Presents at home Vertical timelines All the bluest scars Someone is asking you if any of this is real Someone is telling you that they love you too