All this distance really hurts
Conversion scale just does not work
Metric tons, two minus one
Bottle caps in a pocket change tray
Weight is constant and heavy
Bottle caps in a pocket change tray
Centimeters, inches, feet
They just can’t compete
With all the while and all the miles
Two three three two Fulton street
And its the haps you have a plane to catch
The weight is pulling deep inside you
The wait is anything but easy
Perhaps the story always ends with me
And its the haps you have a plane to catch and you
Bottle caps in a pocket change tray
I think I get it, I think I understand
The way we bend it didn’t make sense
It never did
Well it’s wrong for you my dear
See her in a magazine
How’s everything on her scene?
Read her in the interview
It wasn’t half bad she said it’s
Late now i’m in bed and tired
And I’m quite drunk enough to explain for awhile of
Why i never wrote or called or
Why i never did anything at all
I know you’re in my bed alone and
Try and block out the drone of
Passtime it’s just a month we had
And she was right it wasn’t that bad
Somehow it just might make sense
I think I get it, I think I understand
Still i wonder if i wander then what’s next