Little Habits

Can we talk about the migratory patterns of the grey whales?
Swimming up from Mexico and passing by our town in April

Not unlike our, neighbors need a vacation in Gainesville when the highways turn to veins and all our cars turn into blood cells

I swear there is a point to this
That life goes on and I still miss you

And I’ve laid waste to all my little habits ticks and processes it’s true

Can we talk about how all the time we spent together, we made all our biggest mistakes then we made each other better?

Yeah I swear I was the worst version of myself when I met ya
Every single word I let out side of my mouth was depressing

And Now a random person gets best version of you and I can’t breathe

It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that you won’t know the best version of me

I think I need a hobby
Maybe try my hand at surfin’
But the culture can be unforgiving while the kooks are learnin’

Yeah guitar is pretty hard but not as hard as thinkin’ of ya, I remind myself a thousand times to practice and recover

All the while the whales are swimming, losing loved ones to the sharks, I think our neighbor passed away and left his widow to embark on a ten thousand mile pilgrimage from Baja to the
Arctic, yeah I know that pain is relative but beauty lies in starting somethin’ new