I'm Sorry I'm Leaving
Chris Conley
Your middle finger was clutching my thumb
Through the park, and over MacDougal
The torches were blazing above our street
And just down from the sky
Casey stepped with Anna off the curb
His shoes are clogs, did you see?
They dipped in that puddle
The one catching green
They were tripping up and slipping around
Singing "Rosalita"
And oh, I wanted to pull you down
Roll on top of me baby, just roll
We'll wreck our clothes
We'll scrape our knees
We'll taste the scabs
You, sweet, are worth these next four months
Until I bail out and kiss behind your ears
Drive off in the van
Oh my god, I think I'm dying in this car seat
Where I'll spend through winter