solo

Carbon Leaf really is an amazing band. I've been listening to their album Indian Summer for the past few days and every time I get in my car I crank up the volume as loud as I can stand it and sing along. Really loud.

I'm sure that the people next to me laugh when I pull up to stoplights bouncing to the beat and belting as hard as I can. I don't care. If the music makes me feel good, then I'll enjoy it however I please—even if I do look a little ridiculous at a red light.

I opened up the music box; I wish you would have changed the locks to keep me from replaying all the feelings I've been saving. I did not keep them locked up inside, I did not take my steps in stride—thought you were bluffing, trampled on you, went from friends to nothing.

Radio turns to gold and paves the way to find my home when I'm alone.

Overeager and underway, I risked it all, I had to say what opened me up for the beating, but the heart is for bleeding. With scraps of songs I paste along the seams of my clumsy tongue in hopes of creating the golden notes that might bring you back to me.

Radio turns to gold and paves the way to find my home when I'm alone.

Like phantoms on the highway after holiday, gritting their teeth, racing to find a place for their soul—or at least a place that's less familiar, we offer up our heart before the heart's invited or asked for—Oh no, here I go my friend, I'm repeating, but the heart is for bleeding.

And I've said all I can say. I am retreating, on my way. Music box, play my song; I'll sing along to that bitterly sweet tone when I'm alone.