12:03

12:03 PM on a Sunday morning

I'm waiting on this girl to call me

I'm learning to roll cones a little better

Everything today will have a pineapple back

And I've made a lot of miles this year

But the miles don't mean much when they always circle me back to you

Always tethered like a toy to your finger

You walk me like a dog and I'm sick of rolling over

Now I'm swinging broad and wide and random

Whatever direction takes me away from you

That's the direction I wanna head in

Limited range to haunt

Thankful for the friends I've got

I want what I want, not what you've got to give to me

Well maybe that's naivety, but as long as I'm still breathing

I prefer to live a little bit reckless

Whatever takes the edge off and alleviates the swelling

Well you only ever really know you're living

You're totally sure that you're dying

Maybe we get where we wanna go. I don't know. Fuck it

Maybe the earth opens up and swallows us whole

Well if I got a leg to stand on, then I'm pretty sure

That I can work myself up into a run

And I'll keep heading your direction

Limited range to haunt

Thankful for the friends I've got

Sometimes you gotta get a little high to gain some new perspective

If there's a chance I could share the view with you

And I keep waiting for you to call

Limited range to haunt

Thankful for the friends I've got