I took a walk down to that elementary school again.
The first time was vibrant and honest.
This time I realized the first time was just a waste of breath.

The streetlight burnt out underneath the bench we sat upon.

You're a thousand miles away,
and the distance is quite pleasant.
But now you're a red devil or a white ghost
haunting the halls of my house,
or the streets that we drove down together.

My God, I have so much to say to you,
but words are like cigarettes to me now -
I'm running out and ****, I want one right now.

Maybe two.

One to forget you and one to forget that elementary school.

Now all your love is wasted?
Then who the hell was I?