Your middle finger was clutching my thumb through the park
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and over macdougal.
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The torches were blazing about our street and just down from the sky.
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Casey stepped with Anna off the curb.
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His shoes are clogs, did you see?
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They dipped in that puddle, the one catching green.
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They were tripping up and slipping around,
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singing 'Rolalita come out tonight' and oh I wanted to pull you down.
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roll on top of me, baby. just roll.
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we'll wreck our clothes.
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we'll scrape our knees.
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we'll taste the scabs.
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you, sweet, are worth these next four months
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until I bail out and kiss behind your ears, drive off in the van.
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oh my god, I think I'm dying in this car seat, where I'll spend through winter.
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I'm Sorry I'm Leaving
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| Saves The Day |
