Smoke Me


Hold me on the phone

And I'm always waiting for your call

You cut across with that tone

Don't make me faulter

You'll stay on the other end and reasure me

The moon rises and

I hope this isn't just pretend

You're acting like you care

And your eyes were bright under the stars

They withheld this future

It was so clear and far apart from this moment

Race race race through my head

My thoughts are open to you

Open targets

And how could you know I was crying

Your meloncholy tone hypnotizes me

I ain't buying this

Don't make me faulter

The treeeeees know our secrets

As we stood and met

Again and again and again

Author's Notes/Comments: 

All this from a 10 minute conversation on the phone.

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