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.
I've been 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 wild and random,
Whatever direction takes me away from you,
That's the direction I wanna head in.
A 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'd prefer to live a little bit reckless.
Whatever takes the edge off and alleviates the swelling.
Well you'll only ever really know
You're living if you're totally sure that you're dying.
Maybe we get where we want to 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.
A limited range to haunt
Thankful for the friends I've got
Sometimes you've got to get a little high
To gain some new perspective.
If there's a chance I could share the view with you.
Then I'll keep waiting for you to call.
A limited range to haunt
Thankful for the friends I've got