The Civil Wars - Poison & Wine.
I wish you’d hold me when I turn my back
The less I give the more I get back
Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise
I don’t have a choice but I’d still choose you
my uncle used to be one of those people who drove dead people to cemeteries and such
then he became a taxi driver and the person he was driving tapped his shoulder to ask a question and my uncle screamed really loud
I’m sure that’s what he thought.