Calling old friends to make sure they're real talking talking
just to feel that sense of home you lost when you left last
year. distance is just numbers on a dashboard, hour thinking
about nothing but the transmission shutter you fear. I
remember what you whispered in my ear, and all the things we
tried so hard to never have to hear, like kids tighten up,
start saving for the golden year, well hey that picture it
fads day by day and the outcome's not clear.
don't think i'll see you round this winter, and my tougue's
full of splinters; i'm embarrased to admit what i've been
thinking hope keeps some afloat but for me it's no life boat
the tighter i hold on the deeper down i'm sinking. Tried to
put my finger on it but gave it my whole arm, reached out
with good intentions but i only did more harm, find ourselves
alone ever since the day were born, so we seeks someone to
sew sutures in the places where were torn