In the midst of this nothing. This miss of a life.
Still there’s this one thing just to see you go by.
It’s almost like lovin’. Sad as that is.
May not be cool, but it’s so where I live.
It’s like I’m your lover or more like your ghost.
I spend the day wondering what you do, where you go.
I try and just kick it but then what can I do.
We’ve all got our junk, and my junk is you.
See us, winter walking after a storm.
It’s chill in the wind but it’s warm in your arms.
Stumble snow blind, may not be true.
We’ve all got our junk, and my junk is you.
…