Sunday A.M.

The Soviettes

We're talking early Sunday. 
You're standing last. Another bottlecap just hit the 
ground. You're almost falling 
over, around the corner lies 
the one that now just makes 
your heart hurt. You're 
feeling all alone. Can't talk 
to anyone, you need to ride 
it out. Feel like there's 
nothing left, like they just 
took your best.. The air is 
thicker, maybe. It doesn't 
help you smoked so much your 
lungs have had enough. You 
know you're almost broken and 
at this point it's not "I 
want you back" but "could i 
go with". So sick of left behind. Too empty now to try. 
You've got to ride it out. If 
they would have just called 
we could have had it all...
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