An Atlas To Solutions

I can't fix all the problems

I can't see it's such a mystery

I guess I'm not as perfect

as you thought

and promise me that when

I'm next to you

those telephonic words

were nothing more than our lack of presence

because I know when roads are blocking us

we forget how to feel

Map out the problems

and tell me where

I should have gone

I'm sorry

that our arms can't stretch

over states

So what's the point of asking

do you care

because all I can hear

are my apologies

so wrap up your

irrationality

and spoil someone else

I'll only ask you once

Map out the problems

and tell me where

I should have gone

I'm sorry

that our arms can't stretch

over states

Honestly I'm sorry I

always called at the wrong times