Promises for three and six and twelve and twentyfour, fortyeight
So on forever, self-depreciative or tired when you menstruate
I offer no promises if the first bus has drugs in the back
I offer no promises for sticking around the last train on the track

Let me in on your secrets, I'll tell you what I know
I gave another girl a prefix, and fled the halls of Van Der Rohe
My blanket's there for necessity
It no longer matches my room
I remember where I've been
You'll never be there soon.
Get out of my room.

Summer of posters lasts a little for a stare when work outgrows its worth
Impossible mascots for your state schools or beat my knowledge of earth
I offer no promises that I've read up on the matter
I offer no promises for animal species like that or

Someone sold their stock short to drain my capita
Someone bought on margin at their own peril
Someone just split two for one and now the small things all count double
Someone robbed my railway of a breakdown

You're logging and you're blasting
We spin on chairs and hit the ground
We're parking and we're passing
When we hit bikes, we turn around

Let me understand your greatest hits, I'll play another song
Fiction about someone who admits that they're finally wrong
Drywall ought to get the job done
But the concrete wasn't there before
There's a hole through the far window
That wasn't there before.
Close the fucking door.

It's time to think about prom.
No, I'm breaking up with you.
It's not worth the 'anymore'
Rely on something new.

Working through your problems
Three and four and five and six
We'll compound when we get there
Multi is a better prefix

The blanket no longer matches my room
Neither does the sex
I wished you were my girlfriend
Before you became my ex.

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