driving through the smoky mountains on a cold winter morning
waiting for your name on my phone
racking up disappointment
you said you'd leave it up to me
but you never leave me up to anything
so i sit alone and you whisper over the phone
"the past is just the past
and it doesn't matter anymore"
and i sigh and you laugh,
"the pasta's burning on the stove again"
and i guess that you're right but i won't ever admit it
cause you're strong and i'm not
and i never let go of anything
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