Blacktop letters written out of chalk,
|
that she might see me when school is over,
|
Dripping thoughts fall onto your sidewalk,
|
I could only tell you when I'm not sober
|
|
It's not your fault
|
|
Cryptic message written in the dark,
|
All that haunts me is surely closure
|
Locking hands floating through the park,
|
They always watch me losing composure
|
|
It's not your fault
|
|
-----------------
|
Mind, Drips
|
| Neon Indian |
