MLK, You're OK

I became yours at a hazy loft party
At a band a goodway neighborhood in Oakland
Foggy, fifty-six degrees and raining, I was
out in the side yard just faking cool and smoking
Swimming through the gossip, under a sea of smothered stars
Breathing through a bottle hardly coming up for air
There were night moves, politics, and manic panic stares
I was working in the morning. I didn't really care

I lock all the doors when I sleep
You always find a way to break in
My tired eyes they don't wanna trace your face
You always find a way to make them

I went inside all swirling and sloppy
Everyone was greased up on the feedback and bum wine
Up on the second floor, looking bored and faking cool
the in crowd was pointing fingers and drawing lines
There you were with snowflake hair and incandescence
An old red hoody and a shotgun smile
When your eyes met mine, so divine
I knew I'd be doing time for a good long while

I lock all the doors when I sleep
You always find a way to break in
My tired eyes they don't wanna trace your face
You always find a way to make them

I lock all the doors when I sleep
You always find a way to break in