As the planes went over my house
We talked about everything.
Pink and orange Flores I wish were white because I picked those
And the tea I should be drinking with you but I slept through the flight. We're always sleeping.

When we're not, we're waiting for whoever it is to let us go.
Like the ones who caused us to mishandle these situations
And the ones we'll love next if we fall out of infatuation but god I hope this connection wasn't made for nothing. It can't be nothing.