I'm trying to make sense of all the hurt from you
Why's it always gotta be poetic and personal?
It happens more than I'd like to admit, it's true
Why's it always gotta be poetic and personal?

Parking lots and what you mean to me
Huntington
Ohio border, same fucking thing

When I heard the phone ring
We all just stayed inside trying to think

Miss you, love you, miss you, love you
Miss you, love you, Nick
Miss you, love you, miss you, love you
Miss you, love you, Nick

I'm trying to make sense of all the hurt from you
Why's it always gotta be poetic and personal?
It happens more than I'd like to admit, it's true
Love you, miss you, love you

I'm terrified of winter and the fall
I'm terrified of that one missed phone call
The cold permanence of death
There's no coming back from the other side
I've tried to deny, reading your old texts
I'm so scared of what's next
What's next?

Third shift at the Wawa, and I still remember
Your blue and pink windbreaker, and I still remember
No lights, drinking forties at my house, think it was September
The coldest day in Maine, thirteenth of December

And it's actually kinda funny, right
How we had so much in common even though we're fucking nothing alike
The past five years and all that transpired
Piss poor over-analyzer drinking Budweiser

I'm terrified of winter and the fall
I'm terrified of that one missed phone call
The cold permanence of death
There's no coming back from the other side
I've tried to deny, reading your old texts
I'm so scared of what's next
What's next?

Six nickel wound strings just save me again
Alone making amends, sipping juice and gin
We're all lookin' like: Why, God?
When we reminisce over you, my God