I'm Sorry I'm Leaving


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







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