Turnover Cutting My Fingers Off
I found the picture that we took when we brought in the New Year.
It's hard to see, but I remember.
You wore a cocktail dress, ignored the goosebumps on your neck the namesake of your outfit to keep you warm.
You always said that every thought I had was geometric, couldn't think outside my own lines.
I hope you're alright and I'm sorry that I wasted your time.
Never had the intention to make you go.
To make you go, to make you go, to make you go, I never wanted to make you go.
You might be a stranger now, but I just wanted to let you know that I meant what I said.
And every dream I've ever had's been of myself.
And every dream I've ever had's been of a better view and a ten month summer.
Losing you was like cutting my fingers off.
And even with that summer, without you I'd rather cut my fingers off.
