Another dude not worth the stress. Another kiss not worth a song. I'm getting bored of looking for passion in all the cigarettes alone. And with each passing fling I get older and older. I get closer and closer to quitting the hunt. They say loneliness isn't the same as being alone, but I feel like the difference is only in semantics. A little effort goes a long way. A little self love out of reach. I'm giving pep talks in texts to myself every time I'm left behind. And with each passing fling I get older and older. I get closer and closer to quitting the hunt. They say loneliness isn't the same as being alone, but I feel like the difference is only in semantics. So for every drunken makeout there's attraction gone ignored, and for every unavoidable heartbreak there's potential unexplored. And with each passing fling I get older and older. I get closer and closer to quitting the hunt. They say loneliness isn't the same as being alone, but I feel like the difference is only in semantics, so whatever this is I guess I'll get adjusted.

You came at me with your music taste and bought two weeks of drinks for me like everything I thought I'd ever want. You called me out for low self-esteem just when I thought I'd given up so tell me how to tell you: you probably should have stayed a stranger at the bar. You probably should have kissed anybody else. Please don't want me to be nice to you. I can't promise that anymore. And in the interest of honesty I never saw what you saw in me, but that's nothing that I'm unfamiliar with. I told you why I smiled at you, but I know that that won't explain the things I thought I'd never have to say, like: you probably should have stayed a stranger at the bar. You probably should have kissed anybody else. Please don't want me to be nice to you. I can't promise that anymore. I mean it when I say I need to be alone, so I'll leave the bar and get lost two blocks from home. Think about it: bad shit happens to bad friends. Bad shit happens to good friends. Bad shit happens to my friends. Bad shit happens to your friends. Bad shit happens to you. Bad shit happens to me. Bad shit happens to everyone. You probably should have stayed a stranger at the bar. You probably should have kissed anybody else. Please don't want me to be nice to you. I can't promise that anymore. A year from now if we meet again you'll ask me if I think of you. I'll say "at least you got a song." You heard how my head malfunctions, turned to me and asked about it, tugging on my sleeve to catch a glimpse. You probably should have stayed a stranger at the bar. You probably should have kissed anybody else. Please don't want me to be nice to you. I can't promise that anymore.

I wish I could say I didn't miss the nights we'd take all the twink drugs that we could find, because it's something in this house itself that brings out the mess in all of us. I don't think we ever knew what we were doing. I apologize for being less than kind. I never thought we would end up like this, where conversation feels like a risk. You only miss me when you're freshly alone. Your emotional hangovers don't surprise me now. It's not like I have ever been tidy, I've just never made anyone else into a mess. I don't think we ever knew what we were doing. I apologize for being less than kind. I never thought we would end up like this, where conversation feels like a risk. A year ago you chewed me out for leaving a party without saying goodbye. These days, we come and go and we barely even say hello. I don't think we ever knew what we were doing. I apologize for being less than kind. I never thought we would end up like this, where conversation feels like a risk. It's easier to smile these days, but the way my face falls into the lines feels a little more habitual and a little less genuine. Well maybe you should read my rough drafts where I leave the thoughts that make me roll my eyes because if we're being honest after all this time, before the wordplay it's just melodrama. I don't think we ever knew what we were doing. I apologize for being less than kind. I never thought we would end up like this, where conversation feels like a risk.

Let's clear the air: half of my friends only know I exist because of you. Came out of the blue. Who knows where you found me but we all know where I ended up. I'm not complaining. It didn't work out, we went our separate ways in the end. My only problem is that our separate ways wound up facing the same direction and I'm right beside you, never got far enough to establish identity solo. Everyone knows every detail of every side of the story and everyone says something about us when us hasn't been us in twelve months. I am concerned they don't know who I am when you're not around. What if all I ever do is get remembered for loving you? I'm at it again: trynna deal with myself the best way I know how. I'll make a list of everything I don't like in myself and sit, reading it over, throwing self-congratulations like handfuls of coins in the river. For knowing my faults I am wildly adept at not actually changing a thing. Like ants in a circle, I follow the faint scent of hope left behind as a reflex. I only use effort when I'm helping you notice where you could go right this time, leaving nothing for me, only the footprints I track through the bar and forgetting I'm chasing myself. A ghost in the future got stuck in the past. What if all I ever do is get remembered for loving you? I watch all my friends take out their pain in a way that fulfills their goals. They've all become artists and I'm just a bedroom guitar getting stoned with their mothers. They're chasing their dreams while mine have been haunted with politics, violence, and reasons to turn off the light, give my one final speech in the dark and close up shop, move to the suburbs, work at a sports bar, shut myself up with the tv. So remember my name. Yes, I have to ask, because in the past they've confused me for you. You said I'm important. Guess not important enough for stability in how you treat me. You said I'm important. Well what have I ever done? What if all I ever do is get remembered for loving you?

Everyone thinks we're in love. There's a part of you that kind of thinks so too, but just because everyone thinks we're in love. There's a part of me that doesn't disagree, but just because everyone thinks we're in love. Yeah we share cigarettes, but we never have sex, and somehow everyone thinks we're in love. We've done it before and repetition's a bore. Please leave us alone so we can platonically drive home. I'd say you're all dense, but I guess it kind of makes sense that everyone thinks we're in love.

How many times have I had my mind made up only to find someone else has changed the rules? It's not like I'm mad that we all have agency, but it's always me who turns out flexible. When you're like me, you're a million opposing thoughts, so I'm sorry to see you clearly know that life. Is it better to be with someone who knows you or someone who helps you grow? We get wasted like we've got time to waste. We're up til sunrise, take a nap, then go to work. We get wasted like we've got time to waste. We're 27 but we still love giving hickeys. There is a light at a certain point at dawn that is what I see when I get my hands on you. It's warm and it's and not yet too much. It's just what I need after the night I've had. I'd give your heart to someone else we know before I watch you waste more of your time on me, because we've got it down to a simple little dance, and what more could we want to be what we leave behind? We get wasted like we've got time to waste. We're up til sunrise, take a nap, then go to work. We get wasted like we've got time to waste. We're 27 and our necks are still covered in hickeys.

Changed my bad habits and swore off a lifestyle: got sober and nowhere. The streetlights still flicker. I'm no better off for the wear. I still know the sting of the winter air. I'll sleep with the roaches, the bad men, the joint ends, because who am I to judge which one is least acceptable? I'm no better off for the wear. I still know the sting of the winter air. I'm gin drunk and talking about all of my exes, ignoring the man who's staring straight at me. I'm no better off for the wear. I still know the sting of the winter air. I'll always find someone to break my heart. I want to gather everyone I've loved, shake their hands one by one. I'm no better off for the wear. I still know the sting of the winter air.

I can't read your mind. Even if I could I probably wouldn't trust my intuition. I thought I knew what you felt once before, but I was wrong: you didn't even know how you felt. Why did you give me those 20 love poems and a song of despair? You signed a note saying you never read it but the title made you think of me. OKAY. This August has been an unkind month. There's nothing in the house except cigarettes and dust. Spent my last dollars on gin with my friends. Guess you're not the only one in hiding again. August has been an unkind month. I walk past the bird bones I tried to sweep up. The water from the tap is cloudy and thick and again I convince myself that I can handle it. There's a man I've seen you see at the bar we used to love and I wonder if the look on his face is the one I used to make. I could buy him a drink. I could ask him his name. I could tell him that it isn't his fault when you get bored or can't make up your mind. This August has been an unkind month. There's nothing in the house except cigarettes and dust. Spent my last dollars on gin with my friends. Guess you're not the only one in hiding again. August has been an unkind month. I walk past the bird bones I tried to sweep up. The water from the tap is cloudy and thick and again I convince myself that I can handle it. I know you believe in signs so I didn't tell you your favorite bird flew into the window. Underneath, on a stolen locket, I read the initials of your brand new boyfriend.

We're only free because we've got no cash. We're out of cigarettes and patience. We dream of spring in Burlington or anywhere else we've never been. When we were young, we thought we'd be getting paid enough to stay alive, a basic expectation we forget when we have friends and drinks. If we can make it through 2016 we can make it through anything. Poverty and these cliches are our only comforts. Rock and roll is still alive, but it ain't this, friends. It's just not this. We'll keep our day jobs (and night shifts too) if we can keep our spring in Burlington. If we can make it through 2016 we can make it through anything.

If it isn't you, then who? Well between your head and my heart, there would always be some battle that neither of us want to win. So sit at the river, put your feet in the water on top of the thousands of rusty old nails. Because "if it isn't you, then who?" was something you once said to me, but I was the one who felt it more. So sit at the river, put your feet in the water on top of the thousands of rusty old nails. If it isn't you, then who? You love the city, the city loves you. The only thing that's missing is something we already had. So swim in the river. Put your head underwater. Though you told yourself not to, you can dry in the sun. Swim in the river to wash off the glitter still stuck to our faces like Pride isn't over. Swim in the river. Put your head underwater. Though you told yourself not to, you can dry in the sun. Swim in the river to wash off the glitter still stuck to our faces because Pride's never over. I got sunburned on mushrooms. You were also there the only other time I got sunburned as an adult.

I'm not one for middle ground: I either love it or hate it. I'm the same with myself. Never just okay. We all get to have our nights. I'll just take it all in and leave it here for the next time I kiss everyone. I don't like to let things go. If I can I'd rather know. I want to talk about what's good but the walls in my house surround an empty space. I only hear myself. Even by the riverside, it's only on the lax nights, if all our planets align, I can take a breath. If I can I'd rather know. Take the time to learn to show. I spent my youth screaming like a frontman in apartment compounds, a student slum, and the suburbs, and the car that I slept in. At my age I can barely speak. Still holding on to the past so much I still drink til I sleep, or else I never would. Take the time to learn to show all the room you have to grow because there's nothing that I can't ruin if you just give me the chance, no secret that I'm still keeping besides reckless old romance.

I've got my sights, but you've got my pride. I was unhooked like I told you I was. I could have lied, left it alone. I saw through myself but it's all the same to you. You ran right back in to the room where we sang and I left alone without saying goodbye. Tell me someday I'll stop being tired of watching you leave with somebody else. It's not like I think that that should be me, I just don't want think care that I'm still too much for you. You ran right back in to the room where we sang and I left alone without saying goodbye. Someday maybe we will turn around to find we almost had it the day I gave up on you. You ran right back in to the room where we sang and I left alone without saying goodbye. I've got my sights, but you've got my pride. I was unhooked like I told you I was. I could have lied, left it alone. I saw through myself but it's all the same to me.

I've had better days. What I've shown you is not the best I have, but the sun still can shine through cigarette smoke and bad hangovers, and I will be the one laughing in the street. When all is said and done I'll be setting myself free. There was a verse here once. I wrote it down and played it a dozen times, but it never quite worked out. Now all I have is ink on my hands, but I will be the one laughing in the street. When all is said and done I'll be setting myself free. I've been hiding for months. I let the world keep dancing by. I thought I should take a break, so I slept in, washed my face, and changed my clothes so I could be the one laughing in the street. When all is said and done I'll be setting myself free. I walked down the tracks past old factories and half finished apartments til I could see downtown. All the building lights were blinking goodnights, so I went back home to bed, laughing in the streets. There's nothing left unsaid so I'm setting myself free.

Who did we think we were? We let it get out of hand, but who could be more to blame than me? Ask me if I'm okay. I couldn't lie to you. I want to be my best for you, so find me in Malmö, in summer, when night never comes, and maybe we'll try again.