driving late night
moon low, lookin like a street light
slow down, got some red lights
caterpillars growing up and startin to take flight
hand on your hand got me feelin right
and god, the feelins so ****** tight
thinking about your lips how i bite
when we're drivin late night.

and you've got this glow.
this halo
around you.
and my eyes should be on the road
but god knows, I can't control myself.
like wanting to taste the lemon
when i've got theses cuts on my tongue.
like gasping for air
when the room feels too tight
and all these ****** feelings
and we're just
driving late night

she keeps telling people to come and find her,
but she was never there in the first place.
she's always been gone
and she's just left the most useless part of her
behind because
people always told her that's what they liked most.
she's been sending you postcards in the form of the sun,
she's been writing you letters and signing with love.
she's so far away and
she's leaving a trace
but no one was ever looking for her in the first place.
they were looking for a home in an empty shell and
found a walk in closet that was just "good enough" and
gave her their laundry to hold until they found
newer clothes and moved away,
she's still holding them, pretending you stayed.
and to your dismay
she managed to leave
and still carries your baggage inside her shirt sleeves

there is.
a ladybug on the ceiling.
there is nothing more.
maybe a lady on the negatives
on a 35mm in
a pawnshop.
but there is
a  ladybug on the ceiling.
they are the same

I wanted to fix things but all my change fell out of my pocket and I have nothing else to give away, I guess i'll have to stay the same

boys with big hands to hold me or a guitar.
to reach around my waist or to caress the keys of a piano.
quiet, soft spoken deep voiced boys with a celestial moan saved in their chest
and the warmest timbre when they say my name.
a boy with an ear to my chest and a hand on my thigh to tap the beat of my heart on chilly summer afternoons.
a boy like mine