I should’ve know when you didnt want to talk bout the future that you wouldn’t be here for long
You dodged my questions when I asked about where you saw yourself in five years. About grad school. About moving to New York
You didn’t ask me questions about where I saw myself in five years. About grad school. About moving to New York.

I should’ve known you’d be painfully present when you wouldn’t share about the past
We never did talk about grade school, or skinned knees, bad grades or good teachers

All you ever could think in was the present, and when I started to ask about the future, bout next week, I was no longer welcome in your presence
You vanished and took with you our time together, past tense

So I keep sleeping, to escape the present
Hide behind my covers in broad day light
My dreams take me to a place where the past, present and future are nowhere to be found
And that’s where I’m able to find you, again