when she finds me lying there.
i'm begging myself for some sort of return to sense and routine, but the days aren't mine to contend with. they belong to skies and liquor, cigarettes and chocolate.
come on, honey, we'll have a nice ride, and i'll need to open my mouth more than once tonight. let's go get donuts and sing the soundtrack to my depression. you're the only girl that makes me feel like flying, because i never got these friendships right. take me in as i'm crying for forgiveness and tell me, "you'll be allright." give me hugs and blueberry pastries, sit and smoke our cigarettes, come in my room (two fifteen in the morning) to chew on our lives, hate the same people, love the wrong boys, and we'll both know that the other is across the hall trying to think up a solution to this age old riddle of why a coin has two sides.
i've got these fingers that try to do all the walking for me, but i'm a few steps short. i don't want to talk about it, just get me the hell out of here. you'll smile your devilish smile and pull me through.
we're just two girls in a coffeeshop, mocking the austin wasteland, not knowing how to make dreams into something more tangible. because they keep playing this crappy music, and we want to go home. because they'll keep treating us like shit, and one day, we'll be able to take vitality like prescription medication and show them all what we were laughing about.
