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Most of my years are bitter water They come back crawling through the cracks in the sandstone Come back owning everything I own Each stroke, each breath for something after And I get caught swimming in the dead tide I get caught in the crab holes Don't send me old photos I got the tick, ticking of those summers in my bones Don't send me old photos I got this dead on feeling I won't need them where I am going Most things I say are bitter water And I'm not trying to make a record of my love I don't even want to remember it all So don't send me old photos I got the tick, ticking of those summers in my bones Don't send me old photos I got this dead on feeling I won't need them where I am going Where I am going From Letras Mania