And I was telling Matt,
Hey Matt,
Have you heard Jeff talk about that hole in Ottawa? That people drive their cars down?
The whiskey burning and brown.
Take that Jeep in my front yard
Stack the back half full of photographs
Oh, and memory - drop that shit down.
Hell, I don’t know, old mix tapes and notes
I don’t want them around.
So now I’m asking Matt,
Hell Matt,
Do you think Chad would give us money for a week or two?
To stay drunk and stay in our rooms?
Cause didn’t we have the same pain, too?
Are these things all wrong?
Did we take too long?
After all that wake, and now this calm
And I can’t even write a song.
So now I’m wondering
Hey Matt,
We’ve had some Bushmill’s and a six pack - let’s not shit ourselves
Was it her or the leaving itself?
And does any of this talk help?
Or just fold back on itself?
So Matt
They can take the dog or leave the dog
That’s that.
You don’t get your seat back.
Feel the foundations crack
Like spider webs or spun glass.
So Matt, I’m done
And I don’t want to hear a contrary sound
Just the soothing tink of one more drink as Jay sets them down.
A round a round and one more round
Cause they’re lost and this is what we’ve found.
Did we wait too long?
Is the orbit of memory too strong?
These hearts we won are now withdrawn
And I can’t even write a song.
Hey Matt,
I heard about a hole in Ottawa
Where people drive their cars down
(And love and loss are brothers, same as we are now.)
Let’s fucking do it
Cause she’s crying in my head and
I used to love that sound.

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