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