I swam in the mediterranean
and you mattered more.

I want to hold all the parts of you,
that I never knew existed.
and keep them close to my heart.

I want to see New York City
the way you grew up in it,
the part of you that still lives there.

I want you to take me to Brooklyn,
and I want to see you smile at me,
the way you used to smile.

I wish I had a typewriter
or a gramaphone.
we could let the records spin.
you & me.
I'd forgot punk or indie
as far as you knew
and nothing would have a label.

I don't wanna graduate.
I let it all slip right past me
just enough to say I'm trying
you've heard it all before & more & worse.
I'm asking, please don't save me
tell me I don't need to be saved.

it was June wasn't it.
and we can't go back.
the rides before the flight
I knew I knew I knew
across the ocean I'd lose you.

there's something cross continental
about my courage
to try and tell you just how I feel.

this is swallowing Xanax and flower power
this is so lethargic it shouldn't even count
for anything other than the absolute truth.

it was June wasn't it?
I settle for winehouse and empty bottles
I wonder if I've tried enough

what words would get me there
what the **** can I say
to make you understand?

give me a shot of *** and a shot at your heart, and I'll only miss one of them.

for ***** sake

the lovesick little ******
wears a bandaid on her trigger finger
and bites her split lip
while aiming.

she is trying to go higher
past the tree line
and figure out just where to aim.
she points, & shoots.

there are songs
that belong to jack
like tiny vessels

and they will always be his
because
you've never left a mark on my neck.

but could you?
will you?
I'll make you.
before this is all over.

I'll make you stain my neck.

before this is all over
before this weekend is done
I'll make you stain my neck.

the songs that belong
to people you've never met
are theirs.

but my neck is clean
"my lungs are fresh and yours to keep."
stain me baby;
I think you maybe want to.

gimme that elmwood walk where we don't acknowledge each other;
my lips feel on fire and I
count the steps
for every sidewalk square;
1,2
3,4.

I handed you an angry orchard
to where you sat in the backseat
welcome to our great car driving tradition
we were all sad to see her go
even me.

I don't mind if
she curls up to you in the backseat.

she's sitting on a bus back to New York
missing you.
and you're sitting in the backseat
with us, while we drive you home.
two of your best girls here.

I didn't mind that
she curled up to you in the backseat.

no, I didn't mind at all.