Art Talk - Fialta

Two kids, stuck in this city

Blonde hair always stuck in our eyes

Try as we might, we could not forget the fractures

Though we try, though we try

The summer that she died, the valley burned

All that art talk in the backyard

Kept us both afloat for part of a year

All that work, those labored verses

Kept us both awake and waiting to hear

All that you said about us

All that you said you wanted to hide

Try as we might, we could not predict the outcome

Though we tried, though we tried

Plotting is a gift we both deny

All that art talk in the backyard

Kept us both afloat for part of a year

All that work, those labored verses

Kept us both awake and waiting to hear

We stood in line still both, both of us pretending

And we left confused at why, why they changed the ending

But I guess it’s fair, I guess it’s fair

And then one day, you said, said that you were leaving

And you said to wait — I wait, waited for a season

But you never came

I guess it’s fair

I guess it’s fair

I guess it’s fair