I always loved this season
With my long sleeves and auburn leaves
I would compare it all to the color of your hair
But that fall metaphor is so played out
We made homes of parking lots and park benches
Waiting for the sun to die and Waiting for the stars to rise
I’d head out west; I’ll make you pay
I’d write your name in every state
But the rain would just wash it away
I count my steps, they grow with age
I miss those nights, under streetlights
We’d smoke and sip and bitch about change
We said we’d marry young
It never happened, but I’m still game
Waiting for the sun to die, waiting for the stars to rise
Hey Max, we liked it better when you were pissy and witty
And I was okay when Holly Hox made me feel shitty
Before Kenny found his island, when I woke up in a car
How many times can we sing Lucky Denver Mint before we’ve left?
Gabe became what we’ve always hated, and Ace made a mess
Kris was right, being grown up isn’t half as fun as growing up
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