The truth is that I miss you
              And It’s hard to fight the distance
                                      The truth is I ain’t ready-
                                                 to do this but I can’t miss it

                                                   But the truth is nobody is ready
                                  And the pain is that we need to grow
                And I hate how I lived so cynical
Because vulnerable is hard over the phone

                                      And I hate using the word
                                                        demon
I think It’s a bitter cliche
                         But what other word can sum up

The                                             i m a g e r y                   inside of the pain.



                                       So maybe I am protective
                                      But I swear that I can try
                                      To open up a little more
                                      If you could just give me some




                                                                                                                   time.