counting down the days ’til i’m with you.
i cringe at words i say,
i’m swimming with the sharks the work week through,
so i’m drowning come friday.
reaching front door, turning on the radio, walking to the liquor store.
you’re what i came here for, you’re what i came here for.
but i’ve got nothing left – a couple bucks, some cigarettes.
i pick a day to say i’ll quit, i’m filled with hope or full of sh-t.
it doesn’t really matter where i look,
the directions seem the same.
i’m closing out my nights with fante books.
if you’re happy then why change.
counting up what’s left.
i let it ride on easy bets.
once i traded in free will it got easy to keep still.
you’re what i came here for, what’s the point of anything