I’m taking the next available bus away from here,
Away from you.
The promises you never bothered to keep,
Too many hours for me thinking of you at the loss of sleep,
The photos I take
That no longer have me smiling in them
I’ll write you a song on the backs of old receipts,
Napkins stuffed into backpacks,
Verses on your hand and mine
That will only make sense until we put them together
In more ways than two,
Verses written in tears and blood
And the miscommunications of about five people.
I’ll write you a song to tell you
How much you’ve exactly fucked me over,
How much I feel for you,
What I feel for you,
And what I wish I didn’t.
Pay attention to the chorus and you’ll see
Why things are this way,
Like a track
Or a racecar that skips instead of runs,
Like my heart when I’m with you.