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letra de punk with an ex - walter etc.

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i rode my bike
to the pier, then downtown
up the ave, then e main, back to midtown

with one eye out for cars, and one for sketchy massage parlors
it’s been one week since we last talked
wonder if i should call her?

caught me in the taqueria reading peter pan
i feel less lonely here even if they don’t understand me
when i ask for no cebolla, cause it upsets my stomach
there’s a ghost that haunts my house at dinner
and here i’m hiding from it

caught me in la tapatia reading treasure island
it hasn’t sunken in yet, but when it does, it will be violent
but if jim hawkins and loyalists can fight off mutineers
maybe i can get over this in the next 6 or 7 years

met up with milk flud at the point on a small but offshore day
the sign says “be back in 15” which means you never have to pay
and as we’re zipping up our wetsuits he asks, “are you doing ok?”
and i know the response that i should give
“how did our lives end up so good?”
but if you asked me to complain, i’d tell you
there’s one big thing i’m missing…

baby, you’re not coming home, are you?
have you been missing me at all?
do you feel sorry for me?
we built a perfect life, so why would you…
why would you just throw it away like…?

if this was a dark comedy, i’d find it pretty funny
to end up lost and broke on the wrong side of my twenties
now suddenly i’m shameless and can get myself to rally
i went solo to the fair to see sublime with frankie valli

when i get home i bum a smoke off my ventucky neighbors
they feed me a bunch of tequila and tell me who on the block are tweakers
they ask me where my girlfriend’s been and when will i propose?
i shrug and tell them “work trip” and “well, who f-cking knows.”

this is my life without her
and yes, there are some benefits
i do a lot more yard work
and i make a lot of artwork
and i randomly now floss more
and i feel like i’m less sensitive
hey, maybe i’m less sensitive
see, i’m making the best of this

met up with ernie at the dredge on a big and soupy day
in the morning marine layer, water silver, sky was gray
as we rode the rip along the jetty he asked, “are you doing ok?”
i said, “jesus. you guys are really worried about me? aren’t ya?
i’m fine. these things take time. this too shall pass, or, something like that.”

baby, you’re not coming home, are you?
have you been missing me at all?
do you feel sorry for me?
we built a perfect life, so why would you…
why would you just throw it away like…?

if there’s a moral to this story, i 100% missed it
she lives in santa barbara now with yvon chouinard’s assistant
i thought she was my thrift store girl, and i, her surfer boy
i thought that we were jim and pam
but turns out i was roy

- walter etc

letras aleatórias

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