Purple Blood

I don't get caught up in the past anymore
I've learned that photograph's never capture the war
no one wants to be the one to make a stand
no one wants to walk the plank
but everyone wants to see
the view from the edge

your face is shifting colors
I'm losing the friend I know
switching trains - changing lanes
I hate to see you go
but seasons sneak the years by
and children scream at the winter sky
while I try and meditate
you and I drift further and further away

without a hint of irony
without the sting of alcohol
what do we have in common?

pink tongues and purple blood
otherwise nothing