In the parking lot across
From our favorite spot
In this whole 1990's town
I love the way you sound
When you sing gospel songs
I try to sing along
But I always got the words all wrong...

But I tried...
And I tried...
I tried...
I tried, I tried, I tried...
And I tried...
I tried...
I tried, I tried, I tried...

To be better
I just want to be...
I just want to be better
To be better
To be better
I just want to be...

That night on your front porch
Watched you sway back and forth
Pull me down, my signal torch
Show me what I worth
And help me learn your language
With your teeth and fingertips
Force the words across my lips

And I'll try...
I'll try...
I'll try...
I'll try, I'll try, I'll try...
And I'll try...
I'll try...
I'll try, I'll try, I'll try...

I find myself sleeping more and more as time goes by
Not because of laziness or apathy
But because I legitimately need it
As I get older my body becomes less able to maintain composure
into the dark hours of the night
As if the tide never wanes...
Constantly rising and overtaking the coast
I've lost countless acres
I've lost countless hours to this ocean

At first I fought back
Struggling against the grip of the undertow
But as I spend more time under the water
I start to become accustomed to the pressure
I become content with holding my breathe
My body floating like driftwood on the currents
I even begin to see the benefits of letting the water take the wheel
I can simply let go and let the tide take me wherever it wants me to go
I don't even really have to breathe if I don't want to

I can simply drift

No longer would I have to try
No longer would I have to pretend to care
Those days when I would lazily enter those three capital A's at the end of every unimpressive attempt at significance are long gone
I no longer long
Because I am I no longer

I am done