1 million words/1 trillion emotions 

Nothing will change this state 

The solid is the solid 

Liquid has turned to gas

I gassed you up in my mind

Only to realize our time zones 

Are totally different 

And now I’m touching 75 on 75 after

Chasing a beer or 5

If i spin out of control 

It’s poetic justice

And the irony is worth it

If I make it home

I iron my shirt

And try again tomorrow 

I got worked into a shoot

And shot myself in the foot

Lucky for me I haven’t pulled a Bob yet

That would be brutal and not worth the tears

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