Lucrative Thoughts

It's a Sunday morning, and I'll be tryna find God by my side tonight Since you've been falling, I've been tryna catch you but you're leaving me behind I can't deal with this and my open palms have turned into fists again It's all going down the same and I'm turning into the man you changed back then One hand on the IV drip and my fingers begin to slip to you To you, to you I can't help but get one last touch I never thought that I could lose enough for you To you, for you My lucrative thoughts are a pain but to ignore them would mean to never look again at you At you, at you I can only think as I reach out that I'm so glad that I found myself in you In you, In you Your face is changing, for better or for worse I just know it hurts you deep Your expressions lately, seem so sour and cold I know you can't sleep I know heaven is on your side but the land in which, we reside is pain And they're saying that you'll be fine but the converging beats of machines don't lie in vain One hand on the IV drip and my fingers begin to slip to you To you, to you I can't help but get one last touch I never thought that I could lose enough for you To you, for you My lucrative thoughts are a pain but to ignore them would mean to never look again at you At you, at you I can only think as I reach out that I'm so glad that I found myself in you In you, In you