Rock, Paper, Scissors For Your Number?

it was back last August, first week in the city
I hear “welcome to college,” but I’m barely listening
I had strangers for neighbors, names in my head
forgetting and guessing, good try, try again
she was pacing down the bricks, I was waiting on the lawn
as I caught a half glance pause from across the quad
and she walked right by, her friend stopped to talk
so she waited in the background of college walk
we lived wide-eyed days and half-awake nights
coy and punch drunk with the girl from KY
she had a new nose piercing, I had a cartilage earring
making new flames while the smoke was still clearing
this appears be the kind of thing that could happen
long-term, hard-earned, the start to a chapter
so as I say your name and you’re drifting off
I’m near your ear and I sing this song, it goes…
"Don't do it on purpose, but you make me shake
Now I count the hours til you wake
With your baby's breath, breathe, symphony
Come on sweet catastrophe
Well maybe this time I can follow through
I can feel complete, stop paying dues
Stop the rain from falling, keep my ocean calm
This time I know nothing's wrong"