I had a teacher who told me, you'll write about something, 'till you
run out of words. These days it feels like that's true, cause you're
all that I write on, like I'm flushing my system of you. I think of
how you laugh at me when I'm funny and flustered as I try to explain
all the things I never say. All the things I never say.
Where do we go from here when we're searching for answers. I cannot
reach you, three thousand miles is too long to try to figure us out.
So I'm spinning alone in the dark.
I try to get it all down, but every word that I write sounds like
something you just said. And I wish I could tell you to trust me,
that I could see down the road any better than you can. And you say
time. You say time.
Where do we go from here when we're searching for answers, I cannot
reach you. Cause three thousand miles is too long to try to figure us
out, so I'm spinning alone in the dark.
You call up to tell me how you think that we are too similar, I say
what does that mean, cause I know we both think a lot and I thought I
was stubborn but you're never wrong. I'm trying to change, and you're
trying to change.
Where do we go from here when we're searching for answers. I cannot
reach you . Three thousand miles is too long to try to figure us out,
so I'm spinning alone in the dark.
Maybe I came to California to prove that I could and to say that I'd
lived here but I, I want to see all these places but I just figured
out I want to see them with you. So I write a tornado of all the
things I never say. All the things I never say.