Habitual Utterance

I don't know what your call is
But you are who you say you are
And what ever becomes of it
May end up as your vices

It's in these places
Where life begins to unfold
It's these flying mountains
That create who you are

With simplistic conversations
That couldn't become
Anymore diverse or plentiful
That we become someone to save

It's breaking hearts
Through broken relationships
I wish I could sew it back
But you must be first