June Of 44 I Get My Kicks For You
We write songs like letters
I've saved shining scars
I've saved your drawings of moons and space-ships and
stars
it's time to try out hell
I'm gonna try and be okay for you
Now there's no providence
or a rainy arabic wines
floating tense in Paris
insomnia with dreams
down filled pillows
no constants
numbers 13- 11- 407
you can except celestial facts about short attention
spans
or swallow potential heart attacks
I'll still open your letters
and sing your songs
it's confusing to wake up
cliche
and go to sleep alone
I want to hear your voice
even if it's only through the phone
this thing between us is scientific
but I'd like to practice it to get it straight
I'll talk to you soon
like a wisdom tooth extraction
you know it had to happen
