| Spending Friday night alone
|
| I’m reading Campus frat boy porn
|
| Strewn on the table for my roommate
|
| When he finally gets home
|
| But just one night ago, three flights ago
|
| I’m back in Michigan
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| Another trip I won’t remember
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| Or appreciate much when I’m dead
|
| Oh
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| And the hotel where I slept that night
|
| Was surely haunted, then
|
| 'Cause every hour, I woke up feeling
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| So watched and wanted and
|
| I think I remember that from when we met
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| Which feels so insignificant
|
| Or maybe odd now to admit
|
| It’s all in retrospect, oh
|
| And so I spent the winter bundled up
|
| Pretending I was sane
|
| And giving up
|
| The things I love the most
|
| Because they felt like pain
|
| And it’s so obvious
|
| This jaded bunch
|
| We don’t believe in ghosts and such
|
| We watch the hunt incredulous
|
| But cannot look away
|
| And you looked at me
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| Like I was a piece of meat
|
| So I was a piece of meat
|
| For a time
|
| But you were a vegetarian, so I became a vegetarian
|
| Then when you started eating meat, I also started eating meat
|
| And I lied to all my friends, said I was happy when I wasn’t
|
| And you lied to all yourselves
|
| Said I could give you what you wanted
|
| But it all feels so much bigger than
|
| Some blame-filled, lonely break up
|
| Like all our narratives and mortality only distill to
|
| Oh my god, we’re gonna die
|
| We’re gonna die and maybe it’s gonna be alone
|
| We’re gonna die and maybe it’s gonna be alone
|
| And no one will find the things we left behind
|
| Because
|
| Because we
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| Because we never thought to leave a fucking archive |