I let you out under the green awning
you never want me to park and walk you in
I show back up just to find you waiting
half-smiling you ask for a cigarette
I’m too young to be your Momma
you’re not my Daddy at least not by blood
you told me once in your right mind, lucid
somewhere near Houston you’ve got a son
It feels like a bad investment
I always look, but never see a return
lost count on the couch I’m losing
worn a path to your bedroom
just to watch you crash and burn
I feel stuck in a bad movie
and if I had a bow I’d tie it up
but the plot never thins
and we know how it ends
this story is shit i’ve had enough
I used to pray just like they told me
I used to always be able to find the Amen
now I talk to the popcorn ceiling,
“Fuck you God. I can’t lose him…..
God, I can’t lose him.”
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