Phone Tag

Don't call me now, I am in bed

I've sacrificed all chances for street cred

As a result of sticking near

The same bedtime for thirteen years

But you know this, I've said it before

There's a lot of things I've said before

Lots of things you kind of ignored

You brushed it off, you always brushed it off

Pacing down the hallway stairs

Mental notes of quick repairs

To gaps in my story for tomorrow morning

Of why I was up at this hour

When I have children of my own

And they have children of their own

I'll spit and spew of my dumbass high school endeavors

With prideful tone

And when my freezing lower limbs

Approached that sly, grinning little shit

I knew the truth in every vowel sound

That I had admitted just two nights before

Goodbye was not an option

It's clear to you

But to no one was it clearer than to me

Since day one, I've been locked in

I'm not fucking hanging up

I told you I loved you at eighteen

But now you're in New York and I'm pushing twenty

We still talk

But only when you call me first

Some days I hear it ring

Most days I stay in bed

Maybe I'll see you when I get home

And we'll avoid all the things we've said